


Risky Business

by 34_SpaceStreet



Series: Peaky Partners [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Extra gay and no homophobia coz i said so, F/F, F/M, M/M, No Spoilers, Not PG because of language and violence, Spy!AU, The chronology is effed up, like... read the description coz this is extra AU, set in the 1920
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21808789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/34_SpaceStreet/pseuds/34_SpaceStreet
Summary: Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons, Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Series: Peaky Partners [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720177
Comments: 30
Kudos: 130





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Here again to present the latest "What the hell is this? No one asked for this! Is this one of your 'I had insomnia and thought of that' bullshit?" Yes, it is I! So enjoy and tell me what you think! Have a great reading, nerds!
> 
> P.S: I'm looking for a 'one chapter' or 'whole story' beta, so if anyone is inspired by this, hit me up and you'll make one son of a bich reaaaaal happy!

“I have the meeting. Tomorrow, seven pm. At his ‘bakery’.”

“Good. That’s very good, Thomas. And do you think he’ll bite?”

"Men like Alfie Solomons don't bite, sir. They either eat you whole or they don't.” Thomas answered, pretending to search for a particular book.

“Well,” Campbell said, his lips curling with humour, “let’s just hope he’s in a good mood when you see him. For your sake.”

“Do not worry about me… I’ve handled worse,” Thomas said, smoothly leaving the scene as if nothing had happened. 

They established the library as their new meeting location and Thomas, as indifferent as he was to every meeting, was already quite fond of the place. As he checked another row of books, he saw the chief investigator leave the place empty-handed. 

_Idiot_ , he thought. _All those big men thinking they can be spies while almost blowing my cover._

He went to the checker with about a dozen books in hands. 

“Did you find everything you were searching for, sir?” The librarian asked with a smile. 

A pleasant herbal scent wafted off of the woman as she spoke. Her neat appearance commanded authority despite her youthful face and bright eyes. 

Tommy smiled at her. 

“Yes, I did, thank you… But I guess I’ll need to sign somewhere? I’ve never been to this library before. I should’ve. It's beautiful and has a nice collection.”

_Okay, maybe buttering her up too much now._

She smiled, and it was in the way the smile seemed to change her entire face that made Thomas question her age again.

“Isn’t it? I love it! And this year, we really put some work into our selection, but…” She let that sink in, checking his books as if she could see right into his soul, “I guess I don’t need to tell you all that. Look at you, mister the philosopher-religious-mystery lover? That’s quite the palette you got there.”

“Thank you, I’m still… sorting through what I like and what I don't.”

“Aww, sweetie. I like you already!" She said as she saw Thomas look at the floor, embarrassed, perhaps. "Oh, no, don’t shy away from a compliment. Take it like a woman. Straight back, head high, heels- alright well maybe no heels in that case.”

A man behind Thomas cleared his throat, getting impatient. 

“I’ll be with you in a minute, Mister Wilde.” She whispered, “And I’ll be sure to take the whole minute.”

The grumpy man sighed, tapping his expensive shoes on the floor and making a thumping noise that covered all the library.

“So what’s your name, sweetie?”

“Thomas, Thomas Shelby.”

Something flickered behind her eyes as old memories danced through her thoughts, playing across her absent face. Something from long ago that she had left behind in another city. She then came back to her senses, but her hands were shaking as she took each book to write down their number. 

“You… have you been a long time in London, Mr Shelby?”

“No, but I think I’ll stay for a bit. It's not perfect but… I don’t know.”

Her eyes rose to meet his. 

“But I think you do know… Lorraine.” He said with the biggest smile. “I get why you would like it here. Believe me, I’m not here for you _per se._ You’re simply coincidental. And if it happens that you have to do a few tasks for me -oh don’t worry, nothing hard, nothing out of this library, just a security policy- well then, I think, we’ll both be able to enjoy this polluting overcrowded town that is London. I remember quite well the work you did for me back in Birmingham.”

Her mouth dropped open, silent fear clear across her face. Mr. Wilde’s foot still thumping in the background. 

“Don’t you think, Lorraine?”

“Of course, Mr. Shelby.”

He signed and took his books, smiling at her as he spoke.

“Please, call me Thomas.”

As he stepped through the door, he realized how dramatic his exit was and loved every second of it. 

* * *

“You gonna end up frying me brain with all that worrying about, Efrayim! I know what I'm doing, don’t you concern your little head ‘bout that.”

“I’m not- Mr. Solomons, please, this is a waste of your time. If you don’t think I’m right to think that this is sketchy, then at least think about yourself. You’re working yourself out lately. And with that back problem-” Efrayim exclaimed just before being interrupted.

“The doctor said-” Alfie raised a hand as if he was mentioning God himself.

“You threatened to send him to see the ocean, because you’d make so many cuts on his necks, it would look like gills ‘so you’d better see your family the fishes’ you said. All this so he’d say you were fine!”

“Well, he did say it, now, didn’t he?” Solomons exclaimed back, devoted to have the last word. 

Efrayim sighed, still grounding himself with the back of the chair he was holding with both of his hands. 

“I don’t think you should meet him, boss, that’s all.” 

“Then thank god you ain’t me mom and I can make me own choices, now, innit?” Solomons said, growing angrier by the second.

Alfie whipped a few notebooks to the side, the sight of them crashing together and falling soothed his anger and calmed him slightly. Efrayim was always fucking ordering him around like Solomons wasn’t his boss, like he was a fucking child. 

_Better know your fucking place, boy._

He simply allowed his behavior because Efrayim was his only employee that seemed to get things done… and because, yes, sometimes, it felt good to have someone worrying about him. 

“I’m having the meeting with the Shelby boy and if you ain’t happy 'bout that, you can just go do that whining somewhere else. That’d be all.”

“But-” Efrayim desperately said.

“Oi, did I fucking stutter? Are you fucking thick in the head? ‘Cause I can say it twice if you’d like. I fucking love to hear myself talk all the bloody time!”

Efrayim simply left quickly, good manners leaving him incapable of anymore disrespect. A quality Alfie both admired and hated. 

* * *

When seven ticked at the Bakery, Alfie's mood had gone up dramatically and, Efrayim, still a bundle of nerves, guarded the door, waiting impatiently for the infamous Thomas Shelby to walk through their door.

_Some trash from Birmingham’s sewer. Fucking gypsy scum…_

As he tried to calm himself and let his anger out, Efrayim spotted a surprisingly small figure approaching. A terrifying energy radiated off of the man as he came closer, violent enthusiasm weaving into his dangerous aura. It only made Efrayim regret this meeting even more. 

“Thomas Shelby?” 

The man seemed to barely notice him as he nodded swiftly and stepped inside without waiting for permission. 

“Mmh, sir, please wait while I go get-”

Alfie, at the second floor of the bakery, hearing his second in command shouting so loudly, simply replied forcefully :

“Let the man alone, Efrayim. If I’d need all this yapping all day, I’d buy a goddamn dog.” 

This earned a small smile from Tommy which he erased when he heard Mr. Solomons take down the stairs. Solomons was… younger than Thomad anticipated. 

“M. Shelby, what a surprise.”

“We had an appointment…” Thomas answered, confused for a second.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m talking about the cap. Didn’t you people used to wear caps? That’s what I’ve been told. But I could be wrong. Lots of rumours down here. Cities love stories, just as long as it doesn’t concern them.”

And here, Thomas silently agreed. But in the silence, as he followed Solomons towards his office, he understood that it was his time to talk. 

“The… organisation is no more active. I come to you as a Shelby, yes, but not by order of the Peaky Blinders.”

And the last part rolled on his tongue with the muscle memory, like a word you used to employ all the time before suddenly forgetting it. The mind forgets it. The tongue doesn’t. 

“So, why not a hat? With your classy suit, why not a classy hat? I think it would add a- a flair to that whole… corrupted businessman look you got going on. It’d fit much better.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say. 

“But then again, with a nice hat, people might recognize that head of yours, now, wouldn’t they? Hard to forget I guess... But you’re a secretive fellow, now, aren’t ya?”

“Well with the rumors, M. Solomons…” he rolled it with the smoothness of a pathological liar. “I better keep some things to myself.”

As they finally reached the man’s office, Alfie closed the door and offered a glass of his favorite product to his guest. 

“So, that’s a sweet enough conversation and I might be inclined to continue it some other time but I know by your simple presence that you’re not a man of words, so let’s get over the business stuff and then maybe, with a few other glasses, end our little pleasantries.”

Thomas cleared his throat and nodded once before saying :

“I want to kill and destroy Sabini and all his men. You want that too. I have manpower and multiple ports filled with merchandise -powder, gas, guns and alcohol- and you know the enemy and are located perfectly for a coup. That’s my offer. You get London, I get Sabini dead in an unmarked grave with cows shitting on his corpse every single day.”

Alfie let out a single laugh. He took a sip of alcohol.

“When I said 'cut to the chase’, I didn't mean with a goddamn gun.” But the joke left nothing on Thomas’ expression. “So it's as simple as that, right?” Alfie laughed. 

“As simple as that.” Thomas responded, swallowing his glass in one go. 

“And what tells me you won’t fuck me in the arse later and leave me with Sabini and the cows too.” He said, still humorously. 

“Because, Mr. Solomons, if you’d really listened to the rumours, you’d know that my revenge will be more valuable than any city.”

“And after that so called revenge of yours? Am I to understand you’ll simply go back to your shitty litter you call a town and finish your days in blissful fucking peace? Thomas fucking Shelby, watching some fucking birds or something.”

“If that’s what you want me to do... Mr. Solomons, I don’t think you realize what this means to me. I might be a one-man army on some aspect, but after you’d help me, I would do anything. I’d make you the bloody queen if you ever wanted to.”

The idea made Alfie laugh, but he took this answer by heart. 

“So, I help you and then... you work for me?”

“Before and after. Trust, I know, is a rare commodity in this line of work, but the Shelby’s are known for their unbreakable loyalty. When the job is done? I’d be truly forever grateful.... You know the rumours. And you’re a smart man, I’ve done my research. You know the asset I could be to your company.”

Thomas' heart was so loud, he feared Solomons could hear it too. 

“A man on a mission is a man to be afraid of. So I guess... I’d better make sure he’s on my side. Maybe. What if it doesn’t work? What if Sabini wins?”

Thomas’ eyes darkened, a deep agony echoing out for a moment before bitter rage took over. Alfie almost regretted asking. 

“If I still have the strength to break his ribs and take out his heart myself, no he fucking won’t. I’m highly prepared to do anything so he dies, do not worry about that.”

Thomas Shelby suddenly looked very much younger and paler and skinnier. Alfie wondered if he was prepared to die or simply suicidal. He poured the other man another glass. The alcohol gave his sharp and icy cheekbones somewhat of a soft pink flush and it relaxed Alfie for a moment. 

“I guess we’ll need a plan, then, love, ‘cause we don’t want an ‘asset’ such as yo'self going anywhere, now, do we?” Alfie said with a smile.

He didn’t know what came over him. Such a tenderness wasn’t his usual type but something in the other man simply made him want to give him everything he could. 

_A gypsy trick or some voodoo stuff._

Still, he poured himself and Shelby a third glass and, in a lighter mood, and noticing the raw violence was slowly ebbing, Alfie simply said :

“So, about that small talk you owe me… must be cold, now, without the hat. Head must’ve gotten used to it, you know?”

And Thomas slowly regained himself and agreed to talk about whatever Solomons wanted to talk about. He mostly listened so he was quite surprised when the same man from before knocked at the door announcing that it was midnight and that he was heading home. Solomons also seemed surprised since he tossed a few files here and there and locked the Bakery before making his goodbyes to Shelby, telling him that they could see each other in two days, since tomorrow was stock day and they needed him. 

“How about that. 8 o’clock, by the river, just by the 'Marlin' cafe. That way, we can talk in private and I get to still have me free day.”

“We can choose another day than your free day if you want, I can-”

“No, no, no. It’s alright, boy. Free days alone are overrated and besides, you’re not the worst company.” He said, smug.

“8. By the 'Marlin' cafe.” Thomas repeated.

“Good boy, now go get some fucking sleep, you look like a ghost, no offense, a beautiful one, but a ghost still.”

And he parted ways with him, leaving Thomas in the street with these last words to sink in. 

_Did he just-?_

_Was that supposed to be-?_

_Is he-?_

_It doesn’t matter, because at least he said yes._


	2. The Rendez-vous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking for a 'one chapter' or 'whole story' beta, so if anyone is inspired by this, hit me up and you'll make one son of a bich reaaaaal happy!
> 
> Good reading me dudes!

The morning was a late one and even though the sun came out of the grey foggy skies once in a while, the atmosphere still felt very slow. Made a man such as Alfie finally be able to breathe, it seemed. Everything so… soft. Well, everything beside the obvious energy of the waves before him. Coming into contact with one another, the stream seemed to create this kind of meditative background noise. 

The river moved as you would image an animate road would do, or at least, that’s what Alfie told himself, out loud, just as the dark figure appeared on his left. 

“Good morning to you too,” Thomas responded, hands in his pockets, feeling obviously out of place, and yet, his eyes never leaving the water. 

Alfie smiled, still sitting on his bench.

“If that ain’t a blessed morning, now, what is? Got the waves, the air and the silence…” he said, taking a big gasp of air. “Only part of London where you can still get some proper fucking air into ya lungs.”

Alfie finally looked at Thomas and exclaimed, loudly, breaking the serene aspect of it all :

“What you doing still standing up there like a fool? That’s how you goddamn end up with goddamn back problems and I ain’t telling ya ‘cause I got some, we’re just talking here.”

“You said you wanted to eat breakfast,” Thomas said, not batting an eye at the change of behaviour or the rambling. 

“Oh… That’s true, yeah, I said that, didn't I ? See? You’re already helping, isn’t this working just wonderfully?” Alfie breathed before painfully getting back on his feet, thinking he should get a cane to help him. A menacing cane. 

Tommy finally left the water to look at Alfie, only now noticing the strange walk the man had. He even wondered how he didn’t notice the day before. 

_Oh the day where I was worried for my life, me, an undercover spy working for the government, walking into the second biggest shot in London? My only chance at getting my revenge? Yeah, a bit busy there._

They ate and talked about the Bakery over all and Thomas shared some very limited facts about what happened for him to 'quit the cap' as Alfie put it. Thomas would sometimes get lost in the river and Alfie would let him have a few minutes to himself, thinking on his own. Thomas Shelby seemed like a man who needed some time to himself to fully be with someone else. Something Alfie couldn’t possibly understand since every moment of his life was primarily a moment with himself. It just happened that sometimes other people would be there. 

“I’d try a mix of hot honey and cayenne for your back,” Thomas said, totally out of context and just inside one of their many shared silences. “If you ever had any kind of pain that is.”

“What?” Alfie asked.

“Hot honey and cayenne. It’s a gypsy trick.”

“Is it really a trick if it’s just an advice?” Alfie asked, intrigued. 

Thomas’ lips seemed to move toward a smile when he said :

“With us, everything’s a trick.”

That was something his mother would say to him, sometimes, proud like a lion. 

“Even a deal, Thomas? Can a deal be a trick?” Alfie asked, knowing full well what kind of territory he was crossing. 

Slowly, Thomas turned his head, his expression serious. 

“Sometimes, tricks, Mr. Solomons, can bring a man really far, but it will never bring him where he needs to go. Every gypsy knows that at some point... you can’t be a gypsy all your life.”

“So what are you, Mr. Shelby,” he said with an emphasis on the 'Mister', just to tell him how absurd it was that they would still call each other that. 

He thought for a long time before saying, maybe a bit more truthfully than he should have:

“A soldier.”

Alfie nodded before commented on the fact that this conversation needed some fucking booze. He stood up and got out and it was the only cue Thomas had that the breakfast was over.

“Tomorrow, at the Bakery, about three?” Alfie asked, outside, while Thomas tried to light a cigarette (his fingers had been shaking for fifteen minutes before Alfie decided to get out). 

Thomas nodded, even if he seemed more concerned about not getting his matches from dying in the wind. 

“So where are ya headed?” Solomons asked, finding something weirdly funny in talking to a man who seemed on the verge of throwing his pack of matches into the river. 

“East.” Thomas answered, his unlit cigarette between his lips. He was so focused, Alfie restrained himself from helping him. 

“Why didn’t you light it inside?” Alfie asked, almost completely laughing. 

And when the other man didn’t answer, Alfie simply took two step to his right, in a circle around Thomas, blocking the vast part of the wind. The man quickly lit his cigarette and took a big puff, as if he had been keeping his breath in all this time. He made a guttural noise of satisfaction, forgetting for a second who he was with. 

“Bad habit from the war, that thing. Quit it a few months ago meself. Almost killed three man in the process…. actually wounded two… and killed one. Still. Worth it, I guess. Health above all and all that.”

Thomas simply looked at the floor, suddenly stuck in something very personal and honest. 

“Can I be brutally honest with you, Thomas Shelby?”

After some thinking he finally nodded, his lips still hooked on that cigarette, draining its short life out of it. 

“It’s just an artifact, that thing. An habit, an action, sure, but a memory still, of that place, of that time. You quit it and, suddenly, you’re just a little bit like you were before the war, mate. Better.”

Thomas didn't know what to look now, even the ground seemed to bear his embarrassment. He quickly finished his cigarette and stomped on what remained of it. 

“Well, thank you for your honesty, Mr. Solomons. I'll see you tomorrow at the Bakery.”

  
  


* * *

And when tomorrow did arrive, Thomas, even with his multiple hours of research, had not been prepared. 

Alfie was all over the place, literally, always running from a room to another and from a problem to a catastrophe. 

_No wonder he has back problems, he never gets to sit for more than two seconds._

At three, like asked, Thomas arrived at the bakery and, this time, Efrayim had not been there to greet him with his dark dark evil hating eyes. In fact, the man was nowhere to be seen, just like Solomons. He asked everybody (after checking his office, of course), but no one knew, they all had an answer though “last time he was in the x” or “probably in the z”. Thomas didn’t know there was so many rooms and floors to this place. How could he lose one loud overly sarcastic probably crazy dominating man? How could he-

“A mistake??? You think that’s a fucking mistake, Ollie? No, a mistake, right, is when you get up at night to take a fucking piss and then wake up the next morning in the neighbour's bath. Now, that’s a mistake, innit? What you just made? Fucking business trouble, mate!”

_Found him._

Thomas got up, on the fourth and last level of the building, where the screams came for. 

A crowd was now around Solomons and a very crying man, presumably Ollie. Thomas stepped closer. 

“Now you’ll repair what you’ve done, right, and call Mr. François right now to apologies, praying he doesn’t mind you having fucking damage in the head, because if he does… well you’re not just losing your fucking job.”

The younger man nodded, still shaking, and finally ran towards the pile of broken barrels he probably destroyed. Solomons started again :

“And I don’t want anyone helping him this time. A man learns from his mistakes until he doesn't do them no mo'. It’s called growth. Sounds a lot like the opposite of dying now, innit?”

All the men nodded and went back to their own work without a second look at Ollie. 

“Thomas, where the fuck have you been?” Alfie almost screamed.

“No one knew where you-”

“I don’t actually care, I just want you to fucking follow. I need you to do something for me.” Alfie grunted while making his way towards his office.

And this only action (going to the office) proved to be infinitely harder than Thomas would’ve expected. Exactly forty-seven minutes later, they were finally sitting, almost both exhausted from the exercise. Multiple employees came to approach the boss, while being slightly off put by the presence of a new guy (Thomas in this instance). So once they finally sat on their chairs, Alfie simply groaned and poured himself a drink, forgetting all about what he wanted to tell Thomas or his presence altogether. In fact, he started reading the papers on his desk, mumbling to himself things such as “...terrible…”, “...late…” or “...raised by 2.103…”

To be quite honest, Thomas was tired (of the loud noises and of the violent energy that the Bakery vibrated), so he was rather content with this moment of silence. Then a knock at the door came to screw this beautiful moment up. 

Solomons looked up from his glasses and sighed when he saw Efrayim coming in his office. 

“Sir, I simply-”

“Thomas? Your first task is to get Efrayim out of my fucking office for the rest of the day.”

Efrayim seemed completely shocked, completely at lost for words. He then looked at Shelby in a menacing way, but Thomas knew how to play this game. 

“May I- May I ask why? Sir?” Efrayim asked, not moving when Thomas got on his feet. 

“Because Thomas over here has learned how to shut the fuck up and you… need to give me some fucking space. I'm not some kind of bitch to be taken all over this fucking place. You're head of the workers, you be the bitch. I'm the boss, I handle everything else. So get out, fix whatever you need to fix or if it can wait, wait until tomorrow.”

“But sir-” Efrayim started. 

Thomas didn't wait to hear more. He took the man by his shirt and dragged him out of the office in two steps, making the head of workers almost fall in the process. 

Thomas closed the door behind him so Solomons would be alone for a second. Efrayim, in the middle of his twenties and in good shape, got himself free and simply stepped back a bit while all the nerves in his body wanted to absolutely destroy the new guy. 

“If you need to say anything, do it right now. I don't like to wait for people to say they hate me. Waste my time.” Thomas said calmly, folding his arms, much more comfortable with this task than any other he had done today.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You're here for two fucking days and suddenly you…” 

Efrayim said a lot more. Like. A lot lot more. And Thomas finally understood why Solomons wanted him out of his office. 

“... took you as a fucking dog. You must be in fucking need to be on your knees like a whore. You’re nothing but pitiful and I’ll wait until, in a week, when you'll either be dead or wish you were. Alfie doesn't stand liars.”

“Well, good for me that I don't lie, then. But hey, at least you got all of that out of your little chest. Glad we had this talk, see you tomorrow.” He simply said, panicked inside but absolutely aloof outside. 

“I know you're lying, Shelby scum, I can see it in your eyes. I can see everything.”

“Then you can see that your words, to me, have the absolute worth of a horse’s shit. Now, like I said, see you tomorrow.” He said, finally taking the handle of the door and coming inside again, closing it behind him. 

He then proceeded to take the chair he was sitting on and place it right in from of the office’s door so he could see if anyone tried to come in. 

It was almost time to go when Thomas had to ask:

“Is that what you want out of me? To be your watchdog?”

Solomons almost laughed, eyes and nose still in his papers. 

“You said it yourself, Thomas Shelby, I give you what you want and, in return, you do whatever I say.” He said, in a better mood than earlier. “Beside, there's worse things to be than an inside dog if you ask me.”

Thomas nodded.

Alfie then started to pack his stuff, but when he tried to stand up, his back complained and he had to stop in the middle of his movement, sweat pouring from everywhere in a second and both his hands' knuckles were white from the effort to keep himself steady. Without even thinking, Thomas jumped from his chair to go help him. Breath shortened, Alfie didn't have the presence of mind to tell the other man to back off. He was almost crying from the pain, fucking Christ! Thomas put a shy yet controlled hand on Alfie’s lower back, trying to bring the other man upright. Alfie groaned painfully and tears started to flow out of his eyes. Finally straight, he quickly whipped his tears and cleared his throat. 

“Thank you, I'm fine. I'm fine, I’ll just-” he said, trying to make a step in front of the other. He stopped himself, wondering when he started saying 'thank you’.

“Let me bring you home at least,” Thomas proposed, genuinely concerned about Solomons. For a reason, he felt like he quite liked this overly dramatic and aggressive mass of a man. He understood him in a way.

Alfie looked at him in the eyes with something mixed between mefiance and speechlessness. 

“I- Umh- No, no, it's-”

“I insist,” Thomas said, although he knew being too straight forward was always a rookie mistake for spies. 

Letting his guards down, Solomons looked at the floor, unsure. 

“Alright, but only to make you taste a glass or two of something I’ve been concocting... And maybe something to eat, you look like you didn't eat in weeks.”

And Thomas nodded, smiling. And he didn't know why. He knew this was good and that at his next meeting with inspector Campbell, the man would be awfully impressed with his progress. But there was something more. As if something in him, exterior to his mission, felt satisfied. 

Both men walked the two blocks leading to Alfie's house in complete silence. 

The building looked somewhat ordinary on the outside (for some reason, Thomas expected a big mansion or a reclusive cabin or something with a bit more… gloom?) It was basically a normal two level kind of house but Thomas knew something inside must've been at the caliber of such a cold-blooded killer, an illegal businessman, a monster of the corrupt, a- there was a welcome carpet on the porch. 

There was a welcome carpet on the porch. 

Thomas started thinking they weren't at the good place at all. 

_He brought me here to kill me, under false pretense. God, I knew I was being too friendly too fast!_

“Marion?” Alfie screamed as soon as they stepped inside the house. 

And Thomas went immediately cold, frigid. 

_He has a wife? Why wasnt that in the file? What else wasn’t in the goddamn file?_

Since the start of this mission, Thomas had been comfortable, even more so than on his usual missions… and now, he realize he fucked up. Big time. He missed something this big? A wife? That means he could've been mistaken on something else that's big. Maybe Solomons had been playing with him from the start. He stepped back a few feet, more scared by this man than he ever was. 

_Fuck. I'm about to die._

Alfie saw Thomas stepping back and couldn’t help a small laugh. 

“Oh, don't you worry your pretty head about her, she won't eat you… Not with the few teeth she has left.”

Thomas frowned as an old yet charming lady stepped into the living room. She had a cane and truly used it as a third leg but everything else about her seemed energetic, optimistic. As soon as she walked in the room, Thomas felt relaxed. Everything was gonna be okay. 

“Ohhhh… _un charmant garçon_ ! Mister Alfie, you need to tell me when boys arrive here. The dress isn't… _de circonstance_!” She smiled at Thomas as if she had been expecting him for months. 

Alfie raised his eyes and simply looked at Thomas as if it explained everything :

“She's french.”

Thomas had a small laugh :

“I can see that.” He then turned to offer a hand to Marion. “Thomas Shelby, _enchanté_.”

It was as if Marion's eyes lightened up. She would've jumped up and down if her body would've allowed her. Her grin turned into a gasp. She took the hand and brought Thomas close enough to kiss both his cheeks in a rapid movement and with a strength Thomas never would have guessed. 

“ _Un Français_ , mister Alfie? You bring me a french man? Is this my birthday? Oh glory happening! _Finalement_! Oh, Thomas Shelby, bless you!”

Stepping back, still choked by the affective attack, something in Thomas warmed at the sound of his name pronounced in french. He had forgotten how french people didn't pronounce the “s” in “Thomas” and how they didn’t linger on the “y” of his last name. He almost forgot. 

And that's when he noticed Solomons' complete look of confusion on him. He would’ve laugh if he wasn’t undercover and needed to be sure that his target thought he knew him. 

“I'm- I was- In the war, I was assigned in France.” He said. Nothing more. He couldn't. 

The whole scene suddenly seemed to slip from his conscience, the sounds, the faces. He couldn't see or feel anything from here. He was somewhere else. Alfie said something, but he couldn't hear it : the sound of his own breathing, amplified and echoing on miles and miles covered everything. He was suddenly lost between two places. 

_“Sorry, Thomas… This was delivered this morning... It's about your brother.”_

“What?” He asked without even understanding what was going on. 

“I said ‘If I knew you spoke french, I never would’ve brought you here. Now, you’ll be able to talk your nonsense between you’s like goddamn french lunatics.'” Alfie said with a cautious laugh. 

Thomas came back to his senses. He sniffed quickly and hoped that his loss of control didn’t show. His hands were still shaking, he could see it now. He smiled, because he didn’t know what else to do. 

“I don't- I'm not that good, Alfie.”

And the name slipped from his lips like a hiccup you couldn't stop. His eyes became wide open and he was ready to apologize a million times, thinking how dumb and careless he had been in the last few minutes alone. Maybe he should get out. Today wasn't a good day, maybe he shouldn't have come at all. 

But Alfie talked first. 

“Finally! I've been asking you to call me that for days! What does a man need to do to get some results over here…” Alfie grunted, amused, while finally getting his coat off, pilling all his things on one of the sofas, before going deeper in the house, leaving Marion and Thomas alone. 

Marion still smiled at him, silently. He looked at everything but at her. 

“It's a nice home,” He said, not knowing if he should go or follow Solomons. 

It really wasn't that great. Everything smelled of dust and all the furnitures seemed to be from another era. Even Thomas, who wasn't the first one to clean everything in his home, felt the need to open a window. 

“Oh _merci_ , dear. It's mine and my husband. He die about ten years ago, so I have to sell and mister Alfie is kind enough to buy and to take me as his housekeeper.” 

Both her and Thomas shared a good look at the place. She sighed. 

“I do my best.”

But in a few seconds, she was back at her normal self. She then made a quick “oh” and asked if he wanted her to take his coat off. Thomas, looking at how she barely was standing upright, refused and took his coat off himself, placing it near Solomons'. Marion then took him to the second room which looked like it used to be a dining room, but was now something like a library/place to drink your liquor at night. The walls were completely covered in books in a rather chaotic way and it felt as if anything could fall at any time. Two sofas were placed awkwardly in the middle of it all, like an island coming out of the sea that was the floor. Thomas didn't know how someone could read peacefully in such a room. 

Solomons was there, making two glasses of what seemed to be rum. 

“I didn't know you were a big reader,” Thomas said, feeling as if the silence was his fault. He wasn't used to a silent or calm Solomons and now it made him uneasy somehow. 

Alfie raised an eyebrow. 

“I didn't know you made small talk.” Alfie said with a grin. 

Thomas didn't have a goddamn clue of what was happening. Why was he here again?

“You two boys sit down, I'll bring you something to eat.” Marion said, quickly going into the kitchen. 

Thomas frowned at the perfect english accent Marion just used. 

“Her good english slips out when she doesnt think about it. I think she insists on speaking badly to keep something of France.” Alfie said, as if it was the most mundane thing to say. 

Thomas nodded. He could understand such a thing.

“And as for the reading, I did use to love reading, but… well, my sight was always bad but now it’s like I have a dirty fucking window instead of my two goddamn eyes, right. I can barely do a chapter a night without giving myself a headache. Not even a disgusting window, it’s more like as if a little kid, right, was always getting his tiny hands all over the picture I'm seeing, you know? Like it's a fresh painting of something but someone just smashed their hands on it and tried to wipe it. That's how bad it-”

“I could read.” Thomas said, without even thinking about it. 

_Okay, that's enough, we are getting out of here, this is too much!_

Alfie stopped, looking at him with confusion once again. 

“Well… good?”

“For you, I mean. I know how to- but I could- If you asked me to-” Thomas then completely stopped, thinking nothing would be better than the gibberish he was creating. 

“You would read for me? Like a little kid? I mean that's a sweet thought, mate, but I don't-” Alfie said, drinking and still a bit confused. 

“My mom,” Thomas stopped him, trying to get out of the embarrassment he was in. He then stopped. Not knowing why he was getting so personal so fast. He never did this on another mission. “My mother used to read to us when we were little and until we were young men. Every night. She just… loved to read to us… share the adventure of the story.” 

He hadn't thought of this in a long time. It felt like it belonged to another life. 

“Does she still?” Solomons asked with a small smile, interested to hear more of this other side of the Shelby family.

“Oh, no, quickly enough, boys in the neighborhood got a word of it and we had to break a few bones to make the rumours stop. Mama stopped reading to us. She stopped reading at all. She said it wouldn't be the same to read alone. She said it would make her sad.”

Solomons looked at him differently. He knew Thomas Shelby wasn't one to share anything and so much transparency from him made him uneasy and happy at the same time. He wanted to ask a lot more questions after this, but he simply let it go, not wanting to rub Thomas the wrong way by asking too much too fast. 

“Well, I guess, then maybe, one day… after multiple drinks and my self-esteem decreasing, then, sure, maybe I'll consider it.”

And Thomas felt weirdly satisfied by that. 

Marion came back with something to eat and Solomons and Shelby both ate in silence for a couple of minutes. 

“I had one question.” Thomas said after some time. 

And Alfie almost threw whatever was in his mouth on the carpet, trying to stop a sudden laugh. 

“You've never talked so much than tonight but oh you only have one question? Do you note them all so you can pitch them in one single night? 'Cause, honestly, it would make more sense!” And Alfie laughed for a bit before silence fell over the room once more. Thomas looked at the chaos that were the book arrangement. 

“Do I need to be liked by the workers?” 

Alfie grinned and mumbled :

“You're as blind as me if you think they don't already hate your guts.”

Thomas frowned. 

_I wasn't so bad with them…_

“You've been in here for less than a week, right, but here you are, newbie prince, in me office? They've been here for years, and listen- They've been here for years and they are blocked by the new fucking guy?” He laughed again in his beard. “The only reason you're still breathing, gypsy boy, is because they know I would be pissed if they ended you. You work for me, Thomas. Do what I ask and I'll be happy. I'm happy? The workers can't touch a fucking hair on your pretty head.” 

And he continued to eat while Thomas was looking at him, not surprised or shocked, simply… lost. Things were way more violent in Birmingham, but… he wasn't- he was his own man there. And that feeling had never been taken away on any mission before. Now, he looked at Solomons and a sort of _vertige_ took him. He lost track of where the mission started and when his own mission ended. After all, finally double crossing the british government couldn't have been so easy. 

“You think too much, that's why you forget to eat, innit?” Solomons asked, without even expecting a response. Just. To say it. 

“Maybe,” Thomas answered honestly, still thinking.

“Now, there's the two syllables mate I know. I thought I lost you for a second.”

And even Thomas, through all his confusion, grinned. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Solomons said, still not looking at him. “Do not trust Efrayim too much, he hates you and knows how to make it look like an accident.”

Thomas felt himself more grounded now. He remembered who he was. 

“Makes two of us, then.” He said with a side smile. 

Solomons grinned, but seemed to be more worried now. He simply continued. 

“He's a sly one, that Efrayim. He's lucky he's smart… But he should also beware not to get too smart. We don't like geniuses, around here, _mister Shelby_.” He turned to look at him right in the eyes, his face neutral to a point where even Thomas fucking Shelby felt a shiver. “And I'm afraid you look a bit too smart for your own good. Now, you ain't sly like the other one, but you're something… Be careful with that. I quite like our new arrangement and it be a shame… It really be a shame if it were to be ruined.”

Thomas thought it was weird how he didn't feel mortified, but empowered by the treath. It suddenly felt like home. He smiled, thinking of how much he simply enjoyed himself right now. 

“You continue looking so much in my eyes, Alfie, and I'll start thinking you're a gypsy too.” 

Solomons forced himself not to smile. 

“Why, is that one of your tricks?”

“Might be.” Thomas said, finally taking another bite. 

“To do what?”

Thomas smiled. 

“I guess you'll have to discover that on your own, _mister Solomons_.”

Thomas looked at him the way Alfie looked at him, but for some reason, Solomons' gaze shifted. Marion arrived, saying the phone rang and it was for “Mister Alfie”. They hadn't even heard it. Alfie frowned and winced when he had to get up on his feet. He left without saying anything, still in his thoughts. Thomas took all the plates and glasses and Marion looked relieved for a second and led him to the kitchen with a smile. It had been a while since someone smiled at him like that. 

He put the dishes in the kitchen sink and looked outside. The sun was just setting and he could actually see the land that was behind the house. He hadn’t notice at first, but with the window, he felt like he absolutely needed to go outside. The grass was greener than ever and big majestic trees could be seen further away. It looked… peaceful. 

_Are we still in London? This can't be right!_

“That is what I love more about this place too. My husband say we should build another house right over there and double the money. I say 'no, we can't. We just can't.’” 

And she got lost, just like Thomas, in the sight. About a half a mile of pure nature. Untroubled. Untouched. Nature. Thomas' heart warmed. He had been in London for a few weeks now and to see this… 

“Cayenne and hot honey,” he murmured in the silence of the room. 

“What?” Marion whispered back, surprised. 

He turned to look at her with a smile. 

“Cayenne and hot honey. You mix both of them and, still hot, you tell him to put some on his back before he takes a hot bath. Now, it's gonna stick and be a pain to get off, but the next day, his back will feel much better.”

She gave him a wink before writing all this down, as if they were ploting a _Coup d'État_ or something. Still, it made Thomas smile. And he realized he hadn’t smiled so much in a day in years. Truly… years. 

“So, it is true? You are a… _vagabond_ ? A… _nomade_? Like Mister Alfie say.” 

“Solomons told you about me?” He asked. 

_She's more important than she seems. Maybe she knows things that could… help._

“Oh, you know Mister Alfie, he love to talk, so he talk about all the work and people. He is a man of a lot of words! I guess he need to… to…”

“To vent?” Thomas tried, seeing the woman get angry at her loss for words. 

“What? No! To- to talk to someone, you know- Confide! _C'est ça_! To confide! Wait… is that a word?”

Thomas laughed, nodding. It made Marion lose all her anger. 

“You know, lot of people have bad things to say about vagabond people, but… I don't understand. If- If I just decide to start living in the river, somewhere, because I want to and live how I can. Then, no one can refuse me. I have every right to live where and how I want. And so do other people. But people like to refuse… people are often wrong… about a lot of things.”

She sighed, still looking out the window. 

“So that is why I'm glad Mister Alfie find a friend. I tell him all the time 'get a friend out of work’ but he say he don't need nobody. Mister Alfie only lies about himself.” She said, a bit bittersweet. 

“But I work with him,” Thomas said, still feeling like he let her down. 

She did look pained by that. 

“So, what do you do?”

“I do what he asks me to do,” Thomas answered. 

She nodded, thinking about it for a second. 

“Well, then maybe, someday you won't do it because he is your work, but because he is your friend.”

Thomas was now uncomfortable, like before. He thought about it. He guessed it wasn't so bad… for now. 

“I have a sense you will be back, _monsieur Thomas_. I know when people are good for mister Alfie. When they are not, I know it and they never visit again and that is how I know… But you are different.”

“So they keep telling me…” Thomas breathed, feeling tired, all of a sudden.

Solomons almost came in instantly, saying he already called a cab for Thomas. He tried to refuse, but Alfie insisted. 

“Okay, well, see you tomorrow, boss.” Thomas said. 

And the man looked awfully tired but still nodded with a quick smile. 

“ _Au revoir_ , Marion.” Thomas said to the woman. 

“ _Et à la prochaine, monsieur Thomas_.” She answered with a wink. 

“What did I say about that french gibberish!” Alfie exclaimed, leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not an asshole and there's french so here you go for the translation...  
> Au revoir - Goodbye.  
> Et à la prochaine - And until next time.  
> Monsieur - Mister  
> Finalement - Finally  
> Enchanté - Enchanted  
> Un charmant garçon - A lovely boy  
> De circonstance - Of circumstance
> 
> P.S: If anyone needs me to do a French homework, I'm from Québec and am a tutor, like... I won't mind.  
> P.P.S: Tell me if you don't like french in the chapter and you'd prefer just english.


	3. The Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first chapter without a beta to check my mistakes, that's why I've been hesitant to post... Please tell me if this is unreadable or less enjoyable and I'll do my best. Also if anyone could spare their attention for a few hours, I could always use a beta for a chapter or two.   
> Anyway, have fun reading, y'all!

“... So it's basically the same thing each day. I guard the door. Sometimes, I don't even do that, I'm just there, in case he needs anything. I've had worst jobs.”

“So you made yourself his bitch.” The chief inspector scoffed. 

Thomas winced. 

“I am making myself irreplaceable in his eyes… Trying to. That's how you get them. Make them think you're family.”

“Don't fool yourself, agent, Alfie Solomons doesn't have a family and never will. You read his file. He doesn’t know what the word means.” The inspector said with a laugh in his voice. 

“Then, perfect." Thomas replied, his jaw still thigh from the mockery. “I shall be the one to teach him. Stronger the bond, smaller the doubt.”

Inspector Campbell looked at him with sudden fear in his eyes, his skin becoming paler. His expression turned to disgust as he looked Thomas up and down. 

“Do not... corrupt yourself for a despicable man, agent”

Shelby frowned, not understanding what the inspector was trying to tell him. 

“You asked me to get information no matter what. You asked me to-”

“I asked you to tell me everything you could find on Alfie Solomons' plans and resources, I did not ask you to… prostitute yourself!”

It was Thomas’ turn to look pale. 

“I didn't-”

“You work for the british government, boy, have some goddamn respect for what you serve!” Campbell almost screamed furiously in the quiet library, his face red.

It was Shelby's turn to get angry. He stepped into his superior's space, leaving him no place to run or get out. Something in his conduct, in his eyes, just snapped. 

"I served my fucking country alright! I killed and tolerated worse conditions than the fucking rats eating our fucking legs. I've been this country's war's dead meat, alright. I lost my whole fucking family while you were all patting yourself on the back for a job well done. Now, remind me, what did you fucking do?"

The inspector stayed indifferent, used to this kind of insult by now.

"Don't fucking mistake me for one of your little scared agents with daddy issues and something to prove, mister chief investigator, I work for you because you have something I want, not for some other grand pompous fucking reason. It's a trade of services, nothing else. So you better think again before you insult me or my methods… and I'm not gonna… Shelbys have more self-respect than that."

Where laid indifference and confusion now was a smug grin. 

“I bet Ada wouldn't agree.” Campbell smiled.

So Thomas punched him in the stomach. Just to shut him up. If he could, oh if he could, he would kill this inhuman son of a bitch. But he had to wait. He knew he had to. He needed time to think… refocus. 

The investigator was still taking back his breath, folded on himself, his entire face redder than blood. It showed when a man wasn't used to being hit.

“You don’t say her name. She's none of your fucking business. I'm doing my part. How about you just let me do what you fucking begged me to do in the first place.” 

He slapped the chief at the back of the head without even thinking about it and went off before the other one could say anything. 

He went towards the counter. Lorraine wasn't there today, so he just passed his books with the other librarian and quickly made his way outside. He didn’t see the inspector. Must’ve been his lucky day. 

* * *

_I can’t do this another time, I need to think about Ada. If I piss Campbell off too much, he won't hesitate to pull through with his treat. He was very clear when we made the deal. As long as I do his stupid missions, nothing will happen to her. And she has Karl now, I can't just think about myself._

_Coming from someone who plans to double cross the government, that sounds rich._

_But they will be safe. The plan is sound. Nothing will come to Ada or Karl. I will kill Sabini and Campbell. And then… And then… Then everything will be okay._

“I can fucking smell you thinking from here, could you turn the bloody wheels down?” Solomons grunted from his desk. 

_It's Solomons I got to be weary about. If he ever discovers about this spy thing, I'm more than dead. And then no one would be there to watch over what's left of the Shelbys. Campbell would probably lock her up like he told me the first night. Without hesitation._

“Shelby…” Solomons warned, triggered and in a frankly bad mood. 

_Maybe Alfie would even do it himself. Track down everyone I ever knew. After killing me or before so I could feel the desperation of losing all that I have left? I know Alfie can be cruel but even that seems, for some reason, impossible._

“For fuck's sake- That's it, get out!”

Thomas came out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“The bakery is calm and you're the one being on my fucking nerves, just- go take a cigarette or something!”

“But-”

“Take a fucking walk, Shelby!”

And as if the power of the scream alone pushed him towards the door, he was outside the office in a second. 

For the first time, he was the one that Solomons was mad at. It felt… strange. Unpleasant. 

He decided to go outside and take that cigarette. Maybe it would calm himself down. And since Alfie forbid him to smoke in his office, he discovered a perfect little spot. Not in the front where all the cars passed, but in the back of the building where he found, a few days ago, a quiet little place to smoke in silence. His spot. 

He was at his second cigarette when a familiar silhouette made its way towards Thomas. 

“You found my spot,” the young man murmured. 

“Sorry, I didn't know you owned the back of the building,” Shelby said, not really excited at the idea of talking to someone, let alone a worker. 

“I didn't- I meant- Don't tell the boss I said that.” The young man said. 

“I don't even know your name. And beside, if I'd been a snitch, I would've died a while ago.”

This earned a smile on the lips of the younger man. Taking his pack of cigarettes, he let out a hand for Thomas to shake. 

“I'm Ollie.”

Thomas gave out a sigh but kept his cigarette between his lips to shake the young man's hand. 

“You're the one that fucked up the other day.” Thomas said, suddenly interested. 

Ollie winced but silently nodded. They breathed a bit of the silence. 

“I'm Shelby,” Thomas breathed out. 

“Yeah, you're Thomas! The workers can't shut up about you. Some say you're a war hero and others say that you're the antichrist. Nothing in-between.” Ollie said without asking which one was the right answer. 

Thomas eyed him from the side. 

“What do you think?” Thomas asked. 

Ollie barely finished his cigarette before he took another one. 

“I think Efrayim is pissed and that's all I can hope for in a new supervisor.” He smiled. 

“So he's talking about me?” Thomas asked with a grin. 

“Who do you think started the antichrist thing?” Ollie laughed. 

Another worker started running towards them, his breath filled with panic.

“Ollie, do you know where- Oh thank fuck, you're there, Thomas! Solomons is losing his fucking mind again and he's asking for you- well, screaming would be more-” his breath was choked by his run, but the message came across quickly enough. 

“Shit!” Ollie screamed, throwing his cigarette on the pavement before crushing it with his foot. 

Even quicker than him, Thomas did the same thing and ran, with both workers behind him, towards the bakery. 

Solomons was in the entrance of the building, rambling to himself some words that, even though one couldn't hear, the sound of them felt sharp as ice. 

When Thomas arrived, he stayed on the threshold of the room, not sure what to expect. Ollie almost crashed into his back and the other worker, breathless now, tried to say that he found Shelby. 

Going full silent, Solomons' back rose and he breathed once before saying, very calmly (a calm where resided some kind of repressed fury) :

“Thank you, Vincent. You can go back to work. And Ollie too.” 

Ollie seemed to be at lost as to how his boss could tell he was there. Thomas knew it was from the smell. 

Both men got out before they could witness the rage that seemed to be imminent now. 

“Thomas Shelby…” Alfie said, his back still towards him. “Now, that's a good name, innit? Rolls off the tongue, you see. But there's only one thing with it.” His voice started to get more emotional, more impacted with anger. “It's that after fifty fucking times repeating it, right, it gets really fucking old!"

Thomas nodded, not saying anything but listening to what Alfie had to say. 

“You're not gonna… apologize? Give yourself some kind of fucking dumb excuse? Beg for your life?” Alfie asked, still furious, but confused by Thomas’ silence. 

“You are right. I was not there. It is my mistake. People with dignity don't excuse themselves, they take the consequences of their actions and then never make the same mistake.” Thomas said, hands in his back, standing tall and right, polite and calm in his delivery. 

Alfie waited for a few seconds, a bit shaken by this behaviour. 

“When someone tells you to take a fucking walk, right, they don't actually mean it, it's a bloody metaphor!” He punched the wall, not being able to punch the man himself. He did it a second time, with less anger and more tiredness. “I've got enough lazy dogs in my house, Thomas, don't you make the mistake of being replaceable another time.”

Chin up high to hide the nervousness in his eyes, he looked at the ceiling. 

“I won't, Alfie.” He promised with the same tone he used in the war, honest and categoric. 

So Alfie punched the wall a third time, making the wood crack a bit and then went out the door saying:

“Then come on, the cab has waited long enough.”

And Shelby followed him, his legs still a bit weak from the conversation. He didn't ask where they were going, he simply followed Alfie, thinking a good silence would improve the man's mood and his impression of him. 

It was when they arrived in one of the dirtiest most poor neighbourhood of London that Thomas actually thought he should've asked before going. 

_This is a place to die._

“Now, I know you must feel right at home, right now, Thomas, but be careful about where you decide to put your classy shoes. This is a place that feeds of sins."

“Well, when you got nothing else to eat…” Thomas replied, knowing what he was talking about. 

Alfie gave a short laugh, as if to give him the point. 

The cab finally stopped in an empty alley. Thomas knew that, once the sun had settled, it would be filled with creatures of the night. Most of Birmingham alleys were such as this one. Not even a cricket could be heard right now. Alfie got out of the cab without a word and walked towards one of the many buildings. Thomas quickly did the same. 

Inside, the darkness could finally reign and Thomas barely missed the top of Solomons' head going down the stairs. He didn't wince in pain like before so he assumed Marion gave him the lotion… or maybe having a watchdog such as Thomas helped not running around all the time. 

He almost ran towards the stairs to not miss anything. Today wasn't a good day to piss off Solomons… especially twice 

Weirdly enough, this place had a basement and an under-basement (which was probably why Solomons chose this house specifically (not that anyone was living in it anyway)). In the under-basement was two muscled workers, guarding a single skinny little man chained by the ankles. He was crying and his shirt had an awful lot of snot and blood on it. He was, by all comparisons, miserable. 

“Leave,” Solomons said to the two guards. “Go home.”

_Shit. This is a test._

Alfie waited until both men were out to face Thomas, calmer than at any point in the day. 

“I want you to kill him.” Alfie simply said. 

“Oh, no, please, please, mister Solomons, I have kids!” The chained man whined, but both men didn't even look at his direction. 

“This is a test,” Thomas said, needing Alfie to know he knew what was going on. 

Alfie frowned, still looking deep in his eyes. 

“Of course it's a bloody test! Everything's a fucking test with me! You think you can become the biggest jewish gangster in fucking history without having some fucking trust issues, mate? And don't give me that clever fucking smile! As if you weren't testing me, too.” He finally looked away to go sit on the single piece of furniture in the room : a wooden chair. “Now, the test is simple, dear student, you can use whatever weapon you prefer. And don't give me that 'I don't have anything’ bullshit. You wear a gun every fucking day and it shows. Also-”

But Thomas already fired. Right in the head. Solomons went silent. 

“Now, do you want me to burn him or to bury him.”

A bit satisfied, Alfie looked at him, up and down again. All you could hear was the heavy breathing of Thomas and the blood, slowly making its way to the floor. Alfie finally closed his eyes, as if to focus again on what they were doing. 

“Well as tempting as it sounds, my dear Thomas, this is no way to send a message, now, innit?"

Alfie got up and almost stopped once he noticed Thomas was also looking at him, up and down. He grinned and went towards a corner where laid an empty box. He put it slowly beside Thomas and came back to sit in the chair.

“I want you to cut his hand and put it in the box.” He said, waiting with a smile.

Thomas thought about it for a second.

“I don’t have a knife.” Thomas said, his voice a bit deeper than usual.

Solomons rolled his eyes before taking one out of his coat and making it slide towards Shelby’s feet. 

“Now you do. And don’t lose it.”

Thomas picked it up and opened the swiss knife that was now about one foot long. The letters “A. S.” were written on the wood of the knife. Thomas frowned. He didn’t know why Alfie would give him something so personal. 

“Thank you,” he said softly before going towards the cadaver to cut his skin and force through the bones. 

Alfie was humming a sweet song through all the process and didn’t even bat an eye when the skin or the muscle started to make disgusting sounds. Finally done, Shelby put the hand in the box and wiped his face full of blood splatters and sweat, ruining his white sleeve and probably only making his face look worse. He didn’t care. In such chores, he wasn’t really there. He was somewhere else, some place where he wasn’t cutting the hand of a dead man. He close the box, putting red stains all over it, and stood back, his breath heavy by the effort he just made. 

“Good…” Alfie said, still comfortable in his chair, as he looked at his pocket watch. “That’s very good, Thomas. And on time, I might add.”

Footsteps came down the stairs and Thomas frowned. He didn’t feel good now that there were other people than Alfie. But it was Efrayim and the man looked as bothered by his presence as Thomas. He took the box, while mumbling that it was “bloody dirty now”, and went upstairs again.

“What do we do with the body?” He asked.

“Oh, Efrayim will take care of it. Marion is waiting for us, right now.” Alfie said, finally getting up. 

“But I’m-” Thomas started.

“Covered in blood, yeah, it’s fine, she’s used to it.” Alfie said, getting up the stairs.

* * *

So Thomas was once again in Alfie’s house, but this time, he was in the bathroom having, as one would expect, an existential dilemma with himself. He was cleaning his face and trying his best to clean his shirt, but his hands started shaking and his breathing, to accelerate. 

_“Thomas, arrête! Stop! It's not your fault, stop!”_

Tears started pouring and he felt so bad, as if his soul left him completely. He felt numb. He went outside of the bathroom as Marion was just passing by. She hadn’t even batted an eye when she saw him enter, blood all over him, in fact, she just looked happy to see him. As she looked at him now, her expression dropped.

“Can I… take a shower?” Thomas asked, trying to stop his emotions in any possible way.

She looked at him for some seconds and then, in a pure instinct, embraced him in her arms (a bit awkwardly, since she had to use her cane, but in a full hug, still). 

“Of course, _chéri_ , you do what you need to do. I’ll tell mister Alfie. And I’ll go search for some clothes that will fit you.” She said, still holding him.

Thomas sniffed all his troubles away, his eyes lost in another time, but his heart still stuck in the emotion of the now.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He said, trying to still be polite.

So Marion stepped out and gave him a warm smile.

“Everything will be okay, _monsieur Thomas_.” 

And she went away. He desperately made his way back to the bathroom, acting by automatic thinking, numb all over. He felt like a sudden void sucked every piece of his energy and optimism. The shower helped, but, even after, he could still feel it, this void.

A towel around his waist, he told himself that Marion must have left the clothes by the door and thank god he was right. He didn’t want to put his old clothes, he’d prefer the fucking towel any day.

But some dusty clothes were waiting for him in the empty corridor. Hair still wet and his skin still damp, he put on the old suit that Marion gave him. It was a grey suit with a white shirt and a nice burgundy vest. There even was a bow tie which was a darker shade of gray. The pants, naturally, were the same gray as the jacket. The material felt old, but they fitted his figure almost perfectly so he didn’t make anything of it. Thomas took his old clothes, put them in a ball and swore to burn them as soon as he could. 

But for now, he knew diner was being served. 

* * *

“There is something that bugs me,” Alfie started, right after he finished his plate. Thomas was still halfway through his. “You don't mind shooting a complete stranger, right, but there's still something holding you back from being… violent. Now, being contradictory, I get that, but… feeling comfortable in killing but not in the after effects of the act? Shouldn't remorse also be before you pull the trigger?”

“Marion told you,” Thomas admitted, feeling uneasy. 

“Marion told me shit, and that's how I knew something was up. You see, she always tells me everything… and you're the first one she ever protected like that. Now, I don't know if I should be fucking impressed or scared to death, mate.”

Thomas rose his eyes from his plate for the first time since diner started. He looked straight into Alfie's eyes. He thought that maybe the other man could suddenly see the void in his thorax and maybe understand that he was the complete opposite of a threat tonight. Maybe he could see he was at the mercy of anything. A small wind would knock him over and he would stay down for hours. Alfie did look, but he didn't feel reassured by what he saw. 

“See? That, right there, is not the man I've heard so much about. That's not the killer I've seen today. And that's not the soldier who introduced himself to me about two fucking weeks ago.”

“I think that… actually… it sums it up perfectly,” Thomas breathed, playing with his food, taken by a sudden nausea. 

Alfie sighed. 

“Does it really, Thomas Shelby? Or do ya just not know who you really are?”

Thomas, even though he felt emotionless, still felt hit by the sentence. His gaze left Alfie's.

His eyes on his plate, he barely heard Solomons start a big monologue about the fabrication of one's identity and the lie that is the unity of the soul. Thomas nodded. 

Marion eventually came to take their plates. Thomas went to slowly do it himself but both Solomons and Marion raised a hand towards him to make him still sit down. 

“Will you boys need any tea? Or maybe coffee?” She asked, taking both plates in the one hand that was still available to her. 

“No, we'll be okay, I think. Thank you, Marion.”

“Thank you,” Thomas whispered like an echo. 

She nodded and looked at both men before saying:

“Then I'll go to sleep myself. Have a good night, mister Alfie. _Faites de beaux rêves, monsieur Thomas_.” 

The younger man nodded, but he couldn't even tell if he said something back. The next thing he knew, Solomons was taking him by the arm and towards the second floor. 

“Sorry for the dust, not many guest stay for the night so this is often… empty.” Solomons said, leading him towards the bed with a tenderness he didn't even know he possessed. Thomas now sitting, he left him for a brief second to open the only window in the room, to clear the air. “I'll go search for some clean nightwear. I know they'll be too big, but… it will still be better than the suit of Marion's dead husband.”

And he went away. A second passed and eternity made its way in Thomas’ body. He knew he would have nightmares if he ever slept, so, out of instinct, he went out of the guest room, went down the stairs and opened the door to go outside, where nature could invite him in its free and soft embrace. He walked, thinking that maybe he was sleepwalking, but not really caring either way. 

“ _Thomas, it's from Birmingham… a death notice. I'm sorry.”_

He walked and noticed, only after a shiver went through his entire body, that he forgot to put any shoes. Oh well. 

“ _You know I hate doing this but it says_ _'urgent'... I think it's about your other brother."_

The air was cold, but he felt purified by it. As long as he was there, with the trees and the grass and the silence, he was pure, he was a part of this untouched nature, he was free of any human concern. 

“Thomas? Thomas, what do ya fucking think you're doing?” Alfie asked with a sense of relief in his tone. 

Thomas sat then laid back on the grass to look at the sky. 

“I'm purifying myself, Alfie. They all died. I need to be purified of their deaths.” Thomas said, as if it was the most obvious and ordinary thing in the world. “You don't understand. You need to lay down to understand, Alfie.”

And Solomons stayed there for a few seconds before deciding he would lay down by Thomas’ side. 

“...swear if I get sick for this…” The older man grunted between his teeth. 

And as soon as Alfie was on his back, Thomas didn't even think about it and took Alfie's hand in his. A somewhat strong grip. Something to ground himself on reality. Alfie didn't look and he didn't say anything. He froze. 

“John died at war,” Thomas said after a moment of silence. “Then my other brother, Arthur, came back on leave to John's funeral. Sabini thought it would be the perfect time to get the territory. He killed my aunt. Arthur shot himself in the head. My sister Ada flew with her husband in France to see the revolution. She went with Finn, of course, she couldn't leave our younger brother behind. He died of a french disease in two weeks.” Thomas stopped himself and emotions, like a flood finally breaking down a thick dam, came rushing down his cold skin. He continued, silent tears running on both sides of his face to finally come back to the grass, like a soft rain. 

“It took two months for History to erase the Shelby family They all died... while I was scraping some fucking meaningless dirt, not knowing when I'd step on a mine, not knowing how many Germans were waiting for me on the other side. I was fucking scraping dirt! For a government I didn't even respect. For a war I didn't even understand! Night and day, bits and bits of dirt. The feeling of dying, of almost wanting to die just to get the relief, to stop being so fucking panicked all the bloody time. But then, you realize you survived somewhat. Somehow."

Alfie looked at the sky. The same fucking sky that saw it all. Death and all. 

"Then, I come home and they give me medals or whatever. Not giving a shit that I lost everyone I knew in their fucking world pissing contest. I had made plans during the war, it was the only thing keeping me alive. And now? I'm left with blood. That's all I've got. That's what I get for surviving when others didn't."

And once he stopped talking, it felt as if a million years went by in a single breath. He closed his eyes. He couldn't stand the sight of London's starless sky. 

He only came back to himself when Alfie started humming a lullaby he didn't know. Slowly, he could hear his own breathing again, and then Alfie's and then the contact of both their hands in the other's. Alfie continued to hum until Thomas opened his eyes again. In the darkness of the night, Thomas could still see everything, he could see Alfie's look, the gentle calmness in his eyes when he looked at him. 

He stopped humming, he whispered:

“Me mom used to sing that, when she'd start to feel… overwhelmed. From what I can remember, that's all she bloody did, singing this. She sang it all the way, from Russia to here. She usually cried, it didn't make any difference, but she felt… reassured by the sound.”

Thomas nodded, still looking at him and starting to wonder how he would be able to face him the next day. Or how he would be able to see him any other way than like this. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Head in the grass, everything was a soothing shade of blue and Alfie was looking at him like he would look at the sea, like he would look at the sky. Calm, peaceful, kind, beautiful.

Thomas tightened his hold on Alfie's hand, coming to his senses while not believing what was happening. He must be dreaming. He must be. 

Alfie tightened his grip too but finally looked away to stare at the sky. He continued to hum, but more quietly this time, almost inaudible. 

Thomas continued to look at him. He didn't want to go back in the house, although he knew, now, that it was a question of minutes before they did. The night was cold and the wet grass made shivers in their backs. 

“It's been a really long time since I met someone who felt real to me, Alfie.” Thomas let out like a confession, like a 'thank you'.

The older man let out a small laugh. 

“That's the weirdest compliment I've ever gotten, mate… but I'll take it.”

Thomas smiled. And, finally, Alfie looked back at him. He smiled too. 

“So, dear _mister Shelby_ , are we pure enough now to get some goddamn deserved sleep?”

Thomas nodded gently and got on his feet, not letting go of Alfie's hand, and even using it as a way to help the other man to get up as well. Alfie thanked him quickly and faked to clean his pants with both hands, breaking his connection with Thomas. They both knew it happened but they didn't say anything about it. 

Thomas was looking at the grass and Alfie was looking at the sky, both trying to avoid the other's eyes. 

“So I guess we should-” Thomas started. 

“Yeah.” Alfie concluded, quickly walking towards the house. 

Without a word, they got to the second floor and, rooms facing one another, they both stayed in their door frame, feeling like something should be said. 

Alfie opened his mouth, but as soon as he met Thomas’ eyes, he lost any track of thought and closed his mouth. Looking into his eyes, Thomas gave him a small smile and nodded before going into his room and closing the door. 

Alfie couldn't remember such a feeling and he kept telling himself that it was only a door, that Thomas was still a few meters away from him. Something absurd in him believed it was suddenly too much. A strong need for proximity hit him and he had to hold on to his door to not open Thomas’ and simply be there. He knew he wouldn't sleep, but he could read by his side... And that thought alone suddenly hit him cold. This was too close, this was too much. In a hurry, he closed his own door behind him.

* * *

Alfie woke up, feeling absolutely terrible (his back was killing him and he only managed to get a few hours of sleep in him).

He went outside his room and faced the opened guest room. 

_Right… that happened._

Knowing it to be empty, he slowly made it downstairs, expecting things to be more than awkward. But he… He couldn't help but to look forward to it. 

As he walked into the kitchen, Marion, quite happy this morning, was preparing breakfast. 

“Oh, mister Alfie! How are you doing on this fine morning?”

Alfie looked outside. It was pouring and he thought he could almost hear thunder. 

“'Fine morning'? You alright? What happened to my Marion who couldn't stand the fucking sight of rain?” 

She raised her shoulders, almost dancing in every movement, the cane being used as a partner. 

He wanted to ask her, but didn't want to sound… No, no, he wouldn't ask. 

“If you wonder where _monsieur_ _Thomas_ is, mister Alfie, he just leave. He say he have books to bring in library and that he did not want to take your time on your free day. He also say thank you for everything.” She said with a big smile. “I told you he was a good friend to have. He is the first to thank.”

Alfie nodded and waited in silence for the plate to arrive. He felt like shit. Maybe he would just go back to sleep. Maybe he should go to the bakery anyway, make sure things are running smoothly. 

“Oh don't you worry, mister Alfie, you'll see him tomorrow,” Marion said as she put the plate in front of the big man. She tapped his shoulders and went to her room to get dressed for the day. 

“Oi, I wasn't- I didn't-”

“Of course, mister Alfie, of course,” she said, leaving, a sly smile on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation  
> Arrête- Stop.  
> Monsieur- Mister  
> Chéri- Dear  
> Faites de beaux rêves- Sweet dreams


	4. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I'm fast! Long live winter break!

“Like a… an angry crow!”

“A vulture!”

Thomas laughed. 

“That's it! A goddamn vulture!” He said. 

And Alfie laughed, still looking at the window of the office where stayed Efrayim, eyes locked in rage towards both men. It was as if he didn't blink for the whole 20 minutes he had been waiting. 

Smug, Thomas looked at him from the other side of the window, talking and laughing with Alfie. But Solomons finally gave out, not used to ignoring the chief of the workers for so long. 

“Right. Go see what the vulture needs, Thomas, I'm getting tired of his death glare.”

So the man got up from his chair and, as slowly as he could, made his way towards the door. He didn't even let Efrayim get a word in with Solomons. He closed the door behind him right away. 

“Anything bothering you, chief? Or do you just enjoy the sight?”

“Of what? Treason? Pity? Lying?”

“Ever thought of doing crosswords, Efrayim? Bet you would be good at synonyms and stuff,” Thomas said, feeling ironic today.

“I need to talk to Solomons, it's urgent.” He said and Thomas suddenly saw a twitch in Efrayim's fingers, a tell that he was honestly anxious. 

“Why didn't you say so earlier? What's happening?” Thomas asked, almost angry. 

“I ain't telling you, Alfie needs to-”

“What happened? Fast!” Thomas was honestly concerned, although he didn't know why. He barely knew anyone there and didn't even understand most of the bakery's process. 

“There's a fight in the basement,” Efrayim only said, making a move to go to Solomons’ door. Thomas let him as he ran towards the stairs. 

“What the fuck you doing, dog? They want to kill each other!” Efrayim screamed, seeing Thomas run towards the place of the fight.

“Yeah, and you're doing shit to stop it!” he screamed back, almost jumping from floor to floor in the stairs. He heard the door of Alfie's office open but nothing else. The screams of men cheering and booing covered everything as soon as he stepped into the basement. 

A crowd, big enough to count about 30 men, was gathered around what Thomas couldn't see but could picture well enough. He thought about shooting a bullet in the air but from there, he didn't know what machinery he could hit. So he simply tossed everyone to make a pathway towards the fight. The smell of blood hit his nose. 

Passing by five men, he was finally in front of the combat. A fight which didn't seem like one at all. Vincent was on the floor, he was almost unrecognizable from all the bruises (but Thomas could still see his blond hair under his worker's hat, it was so pale, it often looked white), and another man, who Thomas didn't recognize, was still on him, punching an unconscious body. And the people were cheering. Thomas, without even thinking about it, launched himself towards the man and took him off the body of Vincent (it happened so fast, he couldn't really tell if he was breathing or not) in a quick attack. The man was surprised for a few seconds, but immediately, without looking at who was now trying to pin him to the floor, tried to fight back. 

“Enough! Stop-” Thomas screamed under the effort. 

He stopped hearing the other men around them. 

The man under him, face on the floor, achieved to slip one arm out of Thomas’ grip and quickly hit his opponent's ribs with his elbow. Thomas let out a cough and the man took this as an opportunity to get himself on his back, moving Thomas off of him in the meantime. But Thomas didn't let it go so, once again, he pushed his knee on the other's torso to maintain him there and hit once on the other's temple. It took the man a few seconds before he came back to his senses, but once he did, he finally understood who he had been fighting and therefore how fucked he was. 

“Fuck no…” he breathed as a gunshot surprised all the men (Thomas included, making him stop in his intention of pushing the man yet again).

“What kind of fucking hell!” Alfie screamed from the stairs, eyes cold and filled with static anger. 

Every man went silent as the boss’ gaze went by every one of them. 

“Get yourself off that fucking fool!” Alfie screamed, once it was Thomas’ turn to be examined. 

So Thomas quickly did, almost falling in the sudden process. Alfie started getting downstairs, his gun pointed like a third eye. 

“Efrayim, go get a doctor,” Alfie breathed, not looking at the man who was still behind him, further up in the stairs. 

“Ollie already went, sir. It shouldn't be long,” Efrayim said, as if he was stating his schedule for the day. 

“Well go fucking make yourself useful then and get me a fucking faster doctor, right?” Alfie said, almost screaming. 

Efrayim went running, as Alfie arrived at the center of the battle. He started making disapproving noises, eying the body (still breathing) of Vincent. He looked at him a bit longer than anyone else. He then turned to the group of men around him. 

“Better hope this serves as a bloody lesson to everyone!" Solomons stated as he screamed the last word. "You can either do your fucking job, right, like good fucking citizen and whatnot, or you can go on and be a bloody animal!" He said as he turned to the man who attacked Vincent. "Pitiful fucking moron… And don't you dare look at his disgusting face any other way. This is unacceptable and bloody undignified is what it is! Now! Let's all go to work, like fucking men, right! Go on!"

And slowly, they all did, surprised but also reinvigorated by Solomons' words, almost soothed by them. The felt shame for what they did and went back to work, ready to do a good job. Even the man who slaughtered Vincent tempted to get back on his feet, but Alfie came closer to hold his gun on the other's head as soon as he saw him. 

“The fuck you think you're going, Yefet?” Alfie breathed insanely close to the other's face, red on his face showing how he fought his will to not kill him on the spot.

The man, Yefet, was already developing a black eye and he was painfully holding his ribs, but he seemed to forget all of it when Alfie took off the safety from his gun. And the silence was the worst part of it. Lacking his exterior monologue, no one could possibly predict what Alfie was about to do. He seemed about to shoot Yefet at any second, but the bakery's door came open with a terrible bang and Ollie's voice could be heard from levels apart, which was an exploit by itself. 

Alfie continued to look Yefet in the eyes and, with disdain, put his gun in the back of his pants. He did not look at Thomas. 

Three doctors came running, Ollie with them, his voice almost breaking and begging for them to go faster. Once they arrived, the doctors didn't even look surprised and they attended to Vincent immediately, placing him on a stretcher to bring him to the car. Ollie was on top of the stairs, incapable of taking another step closer to what remained of Vincent. He eventually went up, not able to see him like this, and the stretcher eventually followed. Alfie waited until the doctors were out and then, still looking at Yefet, he started to punch the man in the face multiple time. 

“We don't fucking harm... one of our fucking own... you useless pathetic... sack of shit!” Alfie screamed and Thomas looked away. 

Eventually, Solomons got up and told him: 

“Now go, the car for the hospital is probably still there. Just fucking go.”

Yefet slowly made his painful way towards the higher level of the bakery. It only left Thomas and Alfie, once again. Alfie groaned to himself:

"דו"

“I did what I had to-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Alfie screamed, now taking out his gun to point it towards Thomas. 

And he slowly made his way closer, breathing deeply, furiously, through his nose. His hand trembled as he spoke.

“Thomas 'the imbécile’ Shelby. Shut the fuck up!” Alfie was shaking from rage. 

Thomas' eyes were drawn to the gun, but all he could comprehend was his hard respiration and Alfie's. He closed his eyes. He couldn't possibly be there. This was out of proportion. But then again, this was Alfie fucking Solomons. 

“You don't say anything. You don't get to move, unless I tell you, and you certainly don't fucking go risking your fucking life without informing me of the situation first. Don't you ever fucking pull something like that again. Ever. Or the next bullet will be for you and you know I ain't fucking joking. Is that bloody fucking clear in your thick skull, gipsy scum?”

Thomas winced but nodded. And, a few seconds later, Alfie took off his gun from him and put it back in his pants. 

“Now go to the fucking hospital too.” Alfie breathed, exhausted. 

“I don't have-”

“Think about what you're gonna say, right, then don't fucking say it and just fucking do what I told you to do.”

He nodded and got out. On top of the stairs was Efrayim who looked almost pleased with himself. 

“The dog has been kicked out for the night?” Efrayim said, sarcastic. 

“Yeah, so you better be careful in what fucking mood he'll be tomorrow!” Thomas snapped before finally getting out of the bakery. 

* * *

He did go to the hospital, but only to check on Vincent, since he, himself, didn't have a scratch or any wound. He was trying to avoid thinking of the fact that he blew up his fucking position. 

The other man, Yefet, had also been admitted, but Thomas couldn't give a shit about his condition. 

After he tried to calm Ollie down, he finally went home, thinking he was way too sober for what was actually happening. He poured himself a first drink and started to work on his second when a quiet yet confident knock was heard at his door. He would've guessed who it was but he felt like he didn't know Alfie anymore. He couldn't understand his exaggerated reaction of this morning and he couldn't understand why he pointed a gun at him. All he did was end a fucking fight in his bakery. He should've thanked him. 

But, even though he had some doubts, it was Alfie at his door, looking a bit less confident than ordinary. Thomas let him in without thinking. Alfie, without a word, got his coat off (with Thomas' help) and sat on the other's bed since there was no sofa. 

“Do you want something to-”

“Please, yes,” Alfie finally let out. 

And as he poured him a glass, Thomas could finally see how stressed Alfie looked. He was looking everywhere and his leg did not stop shaking. Thomas should've felt safer by the sight of a non-aggressive Alfie after today, but instead he felt even worse. For Alfie to be at his place, at this hour, shaken like that… he must've something big to tell him. 

“First, I wanted to apologize-” Thomas started before being stopped. 

“Fear is… someone's worst enemy, innit, Thomas?” Solomons interrupted.

The man didn't know what to answer…

“Amongst other things,” he said after some time. 

“Yes, of course, that's right, yes, right…” Solomons replied, looking at Thomas, hoping he would understand what he was really trying to say. 

Seeing that Thomas was still confused, he completely changed his tactics. 

“I don't need another chief of workers, Thomas, I already have one and honestly, I could get another any fucking time… I don't- I don't want you to interfere like that anymore.”

“I understand completely and I promise I will-”

“I'd like you to be more important than that,” Alfie let out like a breath he had been keeping in. 

Thomas stopped talking. What the fuck was happening. 

“I would want… I need a… partner.” Solomons tried, analyzing Thomas’ reaction. 

“I need someone to trust to think, plan and basically take the bakery to the next level. I need a brain, Thomas, and that, I wouldn't be able to replace. You'd be a part of this organization for good… which means,” he said as he came a bit closer to where Thomas was standing, “that I'd need to test you even more profoundly than the others. Of course, you can decline my offer and stay my watchdog for how long you want, but something tells me you long for a position like this. And you'd take a greater role in taking Sabini down.”

_ But I'd need to get tested… What does he mean? _

“Why are you asking me now?” Was the only thing Thomas could think of.

Solomons looked at him in the eyes, answerless. 

“I wasn't sure before,” Alfie breathed. 

“And now that I pissed you off, you are?” Thomas asked, angry and confused. He paced his one bedroom apartment, holding his face between his hands. “I don't understand.”

“You didn't… piss me off-”

“You called me 'gypsy scum’ while holding a gun to my fucking head, Alfie. What the fuck was that, then? A fucking laugh? Another bloody test? You keep testing me and it's me who won't trust ya…”

He had enough. This was too big. He gave up. On everything. On Alfie. On his mission. On his revenge. Everything was too fucking much. 

“I- I apologize.” Alfie stated, trying to seem cold but sincere, looking up at Thomas who was still pacing. “I shouldn't have called you that. You saved Vincent's life and kept Yefet out of prison for it. I just… don't want you to…”

“It wasn't my role, was it?” Thomas asked, trying his best to understand.

Alfie kept looking at him as if it wasn't what he wanted to say. Something he couldn't quite express. Not yet. 

“I don't want it to be.” He simply answered.

Thomas stopped pacing. He felt the sudden urge to come closer to Alfie, to sit next to him, to hold him. Talking this far seemed unnatural, like they were miles away from each other. He thought he could resist and did plan to sit on his only chair, but sat on his bed, close to Solomons. He felt uneasy by this move he hadn't planned, but content in a way he didn't allow himself to be. 

“How was Ollie?” Alfie breathed, obviously much more comfortable now. 

“Absolutely terrified. Were they such good friends?” Thomas whispered back and took Alfie's glass to drink half of it before giving it back. 

“It's understandable, they've been together for more than a year now.”

Thomas froze. 

“Together…?”

“As in lovers, Thomas. Do you need me to draw ya a-”

“No. Absolutely not. But… how could you tell, they surely weren't open about… it.”

Alfie shrugged. 

“I can always tell when my workers are fucking each other. Something in their eyes.”

“And… is there anyone else I should be aware of?”

“Aware, oh, I don't know. Jotham and Simon are fucking, but you can tell there's no feelings behind it. Also Netanel and Phineas broke up a few months ago, but it's still fresh so… that's why I don't make them work together.”

“Wow…” Thomas said, not used to this in Birmingham.

“Well well, I didn't take you for the prude one, gypsy boy.” Alfie laughed. 

Thomas laughed, not convinced by the idea. 

“Maybe for a time, back home, but… No one can stay prude for long, Alfie.”

He didn't answer, too perplexed as to how he should take this information. 

“But there's no need to make a slut of one's self either,” Alfie finally said, not really listening to what he was saying.

Alfie could feel Thomas' breath on him. But no. He got up. He… He needed a business partner, not… Fucking hell… What were they talking about, again?

He stayed there, up and yet not moving, barely looking at the man still sitting on the bed. Thomas was looking at him with big blue eyes. Not waiting for something nor expecting, simply analyzing. Thomas loved to analyze. 

Alfie really wanted to look away, but he couldn't, he simply couldn't. Everything about Thomas Fucking Shelby was distracting. As if Alfie had never seen a man before. 

They both looked at each other but by the force of will and discipline, Alfie finally looked away.

“So I said what I wanted to say and I'll expect your answer by tomorrow morning. Thank you for the glass and good night.”

“Good night, Alfie,” Thomas smiled, the alcohol and relief hitting him deeper than he thought. 

Alfie, hand on the doorknob, stopped himself, not knowing why Thomas saying his name made such an impact on him.

“Good night, Thomas.” he replied before getting out of the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation  
> דו - You (in yiddish)


	5. Mr Jones' worst evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back? Back again? This loser's back! Tell a friend!
> 
> Also tell me how you like or don't like the story so far or if I'm making grammar mistakes that bugs y'all (english is not my first language)!
> 
> Enjoy sickos!

“Oh fuck,” Thomas let out, feeling like it had been months since he took a cigarette. He took one this very morning but this one… felt more significative. He just accepted Solomons' offer and felt like this had to be done. Like it was a step that was, even unknown, necessary for his mission.

“You're supposed to smoke the cigarette, not fuck it,” Ollie laughed, while his thin and pale body shook in panic still. 

“But isn't the same, dear Ollie? Isn't it the same? “

Ollie laughed a bit quieter and looked around them, almost forgetting his own cigarette in his paranoid state. 

Thomas rolled his eyes. 

“What is it?”

Ollie suddenly looked at him with open wide eyes, blue and mauve under his eyes. 

“What?"

“You're panicking, what is it?”

“'Am not,” Ollie tried, barely convincing himself.

“I don't care enough for you to hide anything so you either tell me or hide it better,” Thomas warned, taking another long puff of smoke.

Ollie looked at the floor and anger, rather than panic, seemed to make its way through his veins. His body seemed to grow by the sudden emotion and-

“Thomas, Solomons is looking for you,” A worker screamed at the door of the bakery. 

Thomas looked back at Ollie who was looking at the floor, small again. 

“Hey, Vincent will make it, okay? That's all that matters. Don't think of anything else.” He said while tapping the other's shoulder. “'Am coming! Does he look like he'll kill me this time?” He screamed at the worker. 

“I don't care!" The worker screamed back, on edge, going back inside the bakery. 

“Fair enough.” Thomas said as he crushed his cigarette under his foot.

* * *

“So this is test number two?” Thomas asked, still in a good mood, probably better than what he should be in.

“If you're only counting the ones I let you know are tests, then yes, you could say that this is 'test number two’.” Alfie said, sitting next to him in the car.

Thomas nodded. He felt good today and he tried to enjoy every second of it.

“So I was talking to the Americans, right, and they had the fucking nerve to…”

Thomas listened all through and, still smiling, looked at Alfie. He knew he was sharing knowledge he wouldn't say to anyone else. He felt special, wanted and finally strong.

“Get that bloody grin of yo face when I talk to ya, mate, between the lines there's blood and sweat.”

Shelby still nodded. 

“I know. Feels right as home,” Thomas said, looking at Alfie with satisfaction. 

Alfie laughed, looking at Thomas with something wicked in his eyes. He must have forgotten he was so obviously looking at him, because he did so for a couple of long seconds. Thomas, who never looked away from a stare, continued to smile and tried to analyze what Alfie might be thinking. He didn't think of how gentle his eyes looked at this second or how the sun showed some freckles on is nose. No, he did not.

Alfie, suddenly realizing what he was doing, turned back to look straight ahead, paralyzed. 

"But you need to be ready, you need to be serious about this. Because you won't like what I'll make you do."

"I can handle it," Thomas said, sure of himself.

"He's 6," Alfie admitted, almost against his own self.

"What?"

"I need you to torture a six year old, Thomas, while I talk to his dad."

Thomas' grin fell off. This was not a joke. This was not a test either. This was him, violating a child.

* * *

He almost prayed, almost prayed for the father to simply give up and tell Solomons what he wanted. But of course he didn't. They never do. 

He held the child with both arms, simply trying to make it look as if he was being violent with him. It didn't seem to work since the father, sitting comfortably in front of Alfie barely looked in their direction. He barely seemed to care. Thomas began to question Alfie's plan.

"You may do whatever fucking pleases ya with the basterd, I ain't snitchin' no mo', not without being paid," the man said, thinking he could bargain with a man like Alfie Solomons. 

"Right," Alfie simply said, before taking a deep breath to start his monologue. "Right, no, you're right. Of course you would want something for yourself, I mean you're putting your life in danger and everything, right? Yeah, and you're a fine lad, you know your worth, yeah, I can appreciate that in a man. Truly can, but… you see, the problem is that… I don't give a shit. And also, you're thick in the head if ya think ya can fucking make me bow like a fucking bitch in front of your weak and pitiful plan. Get this right : You're no fucking god, mate, and I can burn your fucking house and your boy and your corpse before you can think of anything to make me change my fucking mind. Now tell me where he puts his fucking hay."

_His hay? What the fuck is he on?_

The man seemed to think about it, not so assured now.

"Shelby, make him cry." Alfie said, not blinking from his prey.

So Thomas twisted the little boy's arm, knowing it wouldn't take much for a child to cry. And it worked. He stopped immediately.

"Wait, he's a-? Not _a_ Shelby?" The man asked, now a bit more panicked, looking at Thomas.

Thomas smiled as the man looked at him. 

"I thought ya were- they said-"

"Thomas Shelby, sir, here for your displeasure." Alfie said, still looking at the father. 

That wasn't a man scared for his kid, thought. The people from Birmingham (and he must be one of them) never were. Thomas looked at Alfie for a second and realized the man was looking at him. He let the child go like it was no big deal, like he didn't care himself, but something in his heart felt relief. His mind, although, became terrified of the consequences that defying Alfie's orders could bring. But he knew what to do.

The boy ran out of the apartment. Thomas finally felt good in his role of the bully. He took his gun out and didn't even care enough to point it at the man. His presence, now, was enough of a threat.

"Now that the bastard is out, sir," Thomas said, "this nice man asked you a question. And that's all, a question. Now, I personally saw this man over here make men like you crumble on the floor pissing their fucking pants so I would recommend you fucking answer and you fucking apologize next time, you little shit of a man, because if a Shelby tells you you should be scared… you should be thanking god you're bloody still alive."

He pointed his gun at the man's arm.

"What- what are ya gonna do? Kill me? You won't get an answer, then," the man cried, almost hyperventilating.

Thomas smiled warmly at him. 

"Thanks for the tip, but I was rather looking forward to putting a bullet through both your feet and both your hands, now, how does that sound, mister Solomons?" he finally asked Alfie.

Alfie smiled. 

"Very biblical, I like it."

The man started to shake his head. 

"No, please, please!"

"I hear a lot of things, but still no apologies or answer," Thomas breathed towards the man.

"I'm so- Mister Solomons, I'm very sorry, please don't do it, please, I'm sorry, I'll tell ya, I'll tell ya!"

Thomas looked at Alfie and Alfie looked at the man, acting as if he was thinking about it.

"Fine, then, you may tell me," he said.

"Oh, thank ya, thank ya," the man said, looking at Thomas whom was getting his gun off of him. "It's in the the bar, in the basement."

"Which bar," Alfie asked, rolling his eyes. 

"The 'Three witches' one, sir, in the basement, there's so many boxes, ya can't even pass. It's, hum, supposed to be out by the 12th."

"To go where?" Alfie asked.

"I don't know, an Italian guy with a weird name, sounds like a fucking pasta or something."

Alfie nodded. 

"And when is the bar closing?"

"Seven, I think, but then there's some employees doing the day shift."

"Alright," Alfie said, while getting up, "alright, well, that's all I wanted. Shelby, did you need anything?"

Thomas shook his head, still trying to look menacing. 

"Good, well, have a good day, Mr Jones and I'll send someone to take some other informations soon… just don't make me bring the Shelby, again, he has a busy schedule."

"Of- Of course, so sorry, sir." Mr Jones whispered, exhausted by the interaction.

So both men exited the apartment, quite pleased. 

Back in the car, Thomas said:

"So you gave me an easy one?"

Alfie laughed.

"I just wanted to be sure," he said. "That you were capable of thinking and not just following."

"So you wanted me to defy you?" Thomas asked, still a bit confused. 

"What? No, no, no. I wanted you to understand that I wanted you to defy me. And that's completely different, Thomas. Don't you ever try to go against me, but if that serves us both… sure, be smart for a second."

"So, I passed," Thomas said, wanting a confirmation. 

"Oh, darling, if you hadn't passed, you wouldn't have passed the door on your way back," Alfie said, lovingly.

So they both made their way back to the bakery in silence. Finally arriving, Solomons admitted :

"But you did call me nice." 

"You were very patient with him," Thomas said with a smile.

"I really was, wasn't I?" Alfie exclaimed as if he had been waiting for someone to say it for ages.

* * *

“I thought you wouldn’t come back,” Thomas said, looking at a row of books, picking one on the Russian Empire. Part of his research.

“I thought the same,” The Colonel said, fixing his moustache, again. “So let’s just keep from where we were, shall we?”

_This man doesn’t forget and least of all forgives, Thomas thought, suddenly eying his supervisor. He’ll want a revenge for what I did._

“Your report, agent?” The colonel asked, on edge and impatient. 

“Solomons seems to trust me. He asked me to take a bigger role in the bakery. He wants me to become something of a right arm, I believe. I accepted, of course.”

“And what about his effectives, his safe houses?” He asked, as if that’s all he wanted to know and Thomas was diverting the subject. 

“I might have a few locations, but no certain numbers on his effectives. But with this new role, I might-”

“Agent Shelby, should I remind you that your mission is to only get information on the time bomb that is Alfie Solomons? Not to become bloody friends with him? You’ve stolen evidences and copied countless documents before, I don’t see why this case should be any different. You have access to the office. This task is, in all regards, easier than what you had to do in the past.”

And there laid the heavy truth. Thomas couldn’t even get mad, because he knew that the other man, although he hated it, was right. But he also knew he had been confused… mixed in his three objectives and his three personas. He knew he had been too much “Thomas Shelby” with Alfie and not enough undercover. Everything started to fall apart.

“Believe me, I know, but with someone like Solomons, if my cover breaks, it’s my neck that will break too.”

“Since when do you care about your own safety?” The colonel asked, surprised.

"We are dealing with an enemy way stronger than I," Thomas argued. 

"And yet he trusts you already and lets us infiltrate his web for years," Campbell said, not impressed by Thomas' argument.

And just as Thomas was gonna ask what the hell he meant by 'infiltrating', turning to face his supervisor, Lorraine, the librarian, walked into their alley. She instantly recognized Thomas and, eyes full of fear, quickly made her way back, her arms still full of books. 

“Why did this woman know you, Thomas?” Campbell asked, alarmed. “I thought this place was safe, Thomas, you told me this was safe.”

“It is,” Thomas breathed, going after Lorraine. “I’ll deal with it.”

So he walked fastly to catch up with the woman who was still trying to reach the desk, where she would be protected. She did reach it before Thomas could get a hand on her, but it did not save her one bit. Thomas walked behind the desk as if he had built it. He quickly grabbed her arm and took her to the back so less people would notice them. He put his face close to her's and breathed between his teeth, his eyes filled with panic.

“You didn’t see anything, is it clear? Not a word. Not a fucking thought. I want you to forget everything of this, Lorraine.”

She simply nodded, trying to get out of his grip. 

“To no one, Lorraine. Tell me you didn’t see anything.”

“I didn’t see anything, Mister Shelby, I promise. I promise, I’m sorry, please.” She said, trembling. 

Thomas stepped back, with a devilish smile.

“Then I will never do anything to Marius or little Fabien…. since you’ve seen nothing.” 

She nodded multiple times, with praying hands. 

* * *

He couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking and then hating himself for not thinking enough. He forgot his plan, he knew he did. It was, however, fairly simple: continue to work as a spy for the government to get access to Alfie Solomons so he could finally get revenge on Sabini. And then… 

Campbell will want to kill him. But maybe… if he plays his cards right, Solomons could-

No, because then, he would need to admit he had been spying on him since the beginning…

He would need to get out of town as soon as possible, get out of the country. Maybe he could go to Germany, but he didn’t know the language and he heard that the politics there were a mess. He didn’t want to go to France. He promised himself to never go there again. Maybe he didn’t need to get out of the country, he knew some gypsy families in the south of Scotland. 

He didn’t know how their relationship with those families were, though, and he would most likely be sold to the government for almost nothing. He was alone. He didn’t have anyone to protect him, to get him out if he ever got imprisoned or worse. But then, would it matter? After he got Sabini? Would he care what to do? His plans finished there. Nothing had to be done after. He would be empty, free from the ghosts of regret and violence that haunted him. How could he live, then? 

He couldn’t sleep as a thought crossed his mind. How he wished to be in Solomons’ garden. How he wished to be there, with him, just like the other night.

But he stopped thinking then. He couldn’t go there. Why would he even go there? He was getting himself confused. It was really fucking simple.

Kill the man responsible for the death of his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No translation coz I took a break. Please leave a comment!  
> Also if anyone speaks (baltic) romanian, please hit me up! Just to confirm a word or two for a later chapter.


	6. The Doctor's appointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Sup, nerds?  
> Back again with a chapter! Tell me what you think!

So this all started because Yefet didn't come in to work. Normally, it wouldn't concern anyone, but since they found his corpse at the back entrance of the bakery, it did start the day at a rather weird pace. Within an hour, the entirety of the workers were debating if Ollie did it or not (since Vincent was still in the hospital). By noon, all counts were favorable for a "yes". 

They called the family and explained the situation. In three hours, the mess was dealt with. What honestly turned the day into a complete work of nightmare was the several mistakes being made and Alfie's aching back. Not only was the boss irritated by his physical pain, but as a result, he terrified his workers to a point where they didn't know what to do with themselves and they fucked multiple things up. Which meant Alfie didn't sit down once and that signified more screams and more violence towards the staff. Even Efrayim was scared and Thomas thanked himself for taking his gun to work today. 

All things considered, everyone was silent but Alfie. His face red and his steps louder as he slammed everything he could to reach some sense into the empty heads of his workers. He fired three men that day. 

It was literally 9pm when Alfie, realizing the silence and the end of the nightmare, even thought of going in his office. He slowly turned 180 and started to walk down the stairs. Thomas, who was doing some inventory work at this floor, stopped to look at how tired, how completely empty and honestly tortured Alfie looked. The man was closing his eyes from the pain at every step. Thomas stopped and made his way to him. 

Without a word, he politely gave his arm, not knowing if it would help, but believing that someone should try (and after today, no one would be willing to). Alfie looked at the arm, confused and a bit disgusted. 

"I'm not that fucking old," he whispered, his voice a bit broken by all the screaming and his ears pleased with the sudden silence.

"I know that very well, which makes this a galant offering, not a sign of any pity," Thomas tried, whispering too.

Alfie looked around, but finally took Thomas' arm to gain extra support. 

"Don't make a habit of making me look weak, gypsy boy, or I'll slap the back of ya precious head so hard, ya beautiful eyes will pop out." Alfie winced, between stairs.

Thomas smiled and replied, still whispering:

"I love it when you try to hide compliments in your threats. How gentleman of you."

Alfie said nothing and if he hadn't been already red in the face from the effort, he would probably have blushed. 

It took them a few minutes, but they finally reached the office. Alfie looked at his chair, still not sitting. 

"Will you be able to get up if you sit down?" Thomas asked without thinking. 

This earned him a slap on the arm. 

But Alfie did take his time and went through an awful amount of pain to simply sit down on his everyday chair. 

"Alright, that's enough! I'm taking you to a doctor. Don't give me that face! You're barely keeping yourself from crying out of pain."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Solomons said, looking away. 

Very tired and confused by this sudden urgency to help and genuinely trying to put some reason into this big baby, Thomas knelt to be at the other's height and slowly put his hands on his arms so the other man would look at him in his eyes. 

"I'm serious, Alfie. I won't let you hurt yourself like this," he said with an honesty that surprised both of them. He completely stopped himself before a painful 'I need you' came out too. But he could feel it. Its weight on his tongue. 

And something in Alfie's eyes changed, calmed, focused. As if, for a second, the pain went away, was dismissed. Something far more important happened and he… he… did not know how to react. He looked away again and let out a very fake laugh. 

"Fine! If you're gonna be so dramatic about it! I'll go see one tomorrow."

"Tonight," Thomas corrected. 

"No doctor will take clients at this hour."

"Well, thank your god you got me, 'cause I know one that owes me many favors." Thomas said with a tender and yet devilish smile. 

"Thomas? One last thing before…"

"Of course?" He asked, eager to help in any way and still not knowing why.

Alfie looked at him dead in the eyes. 

"I don't think I can get out of this chair."

* * *

They parked the car in front of the apartment. Solomons hissed at Shelby's sudden stop (he also made a note to himself to never let Thomas drive a car again if he wanted to stay alive). He thanked God it was night time, otherwise they certainly would've gotten an accident. 

Thomas got out and quickly made his way to Alfie's side. 

"Don't ya dare fucking help me," he snapped. "I'm already seeing your fucking doctor as it is… And I'm basically fine, I don't know why you- Fuck, fuck, fuck, that fucking hurts! Whatcha doing standing there like a twat, help me get out!"

Thomas said nothing but he felt an urge to smile, which had been a curious feeling that seemed to only happen when he was in Alfie's company. Not a comical smile, a simple content and peaceful smile. 

He gave an arm to Alfie and made his way to Lorraine's door. He knocked as Solomons arrived at his side, breathing a bit too deeply and putting a firm hand on his own back. 

The door opened. And as quickly, the door closed. 

"Lorraine, I'm not here to harm anyone," Thomas said very calmly, "I just need Marius' opinion. I have a friend that is sick. Nothing big."

It took a couple of seconds before the door opened again. Thomas smiled. 

"You made the right choice. Now, where is-"

"Mister Shelby?" The man at the end of the hallway exclaimed, excited. Marius jumped and almost ran towards them, to Lorraine's disapproving eye. "I thought you were dead, I- How good t'is to see you! Are the Peaky Blinders still active, sir? Do you need me on a mission?"

The man looked more like a kid based on his behavior, but as he told Solomons on their way there, Marius had been the best doctor in Birmingham for years and made his first stitches with the Peaky Blinders. 

"No, not today, Marius, but I do need a favor from you. A consultation, rather."

And the man's eyes seemed to finally see Alfie. His pupils, filled with excitement before, where now made of scrutiny and investigation. The consultation had already started. Marius calmed himself, focused, and led both men to his office. Lorraine closed the door behind them with a heavy sigh. 

* * *

"This… is one bad hernia you got there, lad," Marius finally said after examining Alfie in front of a very focused Thomas.

Alfie, shocked at the lack of 'decorum' presented towards the 'great Alfie Solomons' was gonna offer a probably very felt threat when Thomas interrupted him.

"So this is treatable? You know what it is, you can cure it?"

"Oh, we've been searching for a cure, that's for sure, but for now, all we have is some mix of drugs to help with the pain, which isn't much," he said towards Thomas before turning to Solomons. "I'm very sorry, my good lad, but this is a long-term relationship kind of deal there. But! It's still a relationship, so you need to treat it with respect! Now, I'm gonna give you a good but small dosage and I only want you to take them when you're in extreme pain. Not more than two per day. Two per day, did you note that down, Mr Shelby? Good. Now I know you'll need some in the future. Like I said, long-term, but you can still come by. Otherwise, I can give you the name of the medication and you find yourself another place to take it from, alright? Now. I don't want you working for three whole days. You need rest or your back is gonna make you pay for it."

Alfie looked at the floor and, for the first time since Thomas had worked with him, it seemed like Solomons was letting some emotions get out. He looked… miserable. As if he'd just been given the death penalty. Thomas almost wanted to reach and- and nothing. Nothing at all. Anything more than nothing would've been weird. Wouldn't it?

Alfie finally looked into the doctor's eyes (avoiding Thomas') and nodded. Marius, attentive to the change of ambiance, nodded and calmly said:

"I wish I could help you more, but this is the best I can do right now. Maybe in a couple of years… who knows. But you're a strong lad, you'll be alright. And I wouldn't dream of a better friend than Mr. Shelby here to help."

Their eyes finally met and they didn't dare look away. Marius left to get the medication. 

"Thank you," Thomas whispered, more vulnerable than he intended. 

_ For coming here.  _

_ For trusting me. _

_ For allowing me to be here with you.  _

Alfie didn't look away. The sight of the other felt like the only familiar thing in this wannabe office.

"Thank you," Alfie said in return, knowing it meant more than it appeared.

Marius came back and gave the medication to Alfie without asking for anything in return. But both men got some cash to cover way more than the pills. They finally got back into the car and Alfie let Thomas drive even if it felt suicidal at this point. 

"Now, you know what he said. Two per day. I can count pretty well, Alfie, you take more than two, I'll take them all from you." Thomas said as he started the car.

Finally, Alfie laughed. 

"You take them away, you're a dead man, Mr Shelby."

"I'm a dead man and you'll never find those pills back, my dear  _ lad _ ."

It earned a smile on Alfie's lips which was now a sign of victory for Thomas. And as he contemplated how he never noticed Alfie's freckles or the way his eyes gets kinder when he smiled, he almost hit three men, two cars and, worse even, a dog. Solomons made him snap out of it when he put his hands on the steering wheel to drive the car straight again. 

"Did you learn to drive with fucking Belzebub?" Alfie screamed. 

* * *

"He needs three days of rest and he can only take two pills everyday. Nothing more," Thomas insisted to Marion.

“It is gonna be difficult,  _ Monsieur Thomas _ . Mister Alfie does not admit the hurt he feels. He will go to work and I can’t do anything about that.” She said, looking at him, elbows on the kitchen counter, still whispering. Everything with her seemed to be of national importance and she made sure nothing could be heard from any curious ears.

“But… It’s absurd, it’s obvious he’s in a lot of pain,” Thomas exclaimed, more passionate than he’d ever heard himself talk. “Why wouldn’t he admit it?”

Marion seemed to hardly keep herself from laughing.

“Why would you? Or any other man for that matter?” She let out.

Thomas thought about it for a second and nodded.

“Fair point, but it’s… different.”

Marion got closer to him and looked at Thomas with a motherly patience.

“It’s because it’s not you,  _ mon cher _ . You see it differently because you care.”

Thomas said nothing and tried to fake that he heard nothing.

“Mister Alfie don’t have nobody to care for him in a while,” Marion whispered.

“Well, he talked about a mother. He doesn’t have any siblings? A partner, perhaps?” He asked even if a part of him didn't want to.

She looked at him with a strange look, something he hadn’t seen on her before. She laid a rather protective and defensive eye on Thomas.

“He told you about his mother?” 

Thomas didn’t know it was such a touchy subject. He nodded.

“ _ Bizarre… _ Well, no sibling and no mother. She died before he go here. And… maybe flirtations, but never for long.”

A sense of relief washed over him and he tried his best to not show it.

“Alright, but you’re here, and you care about him, don’t you?” He asked like an investigator, determined to find something that Marion didn’t understand yet.

“Of course,  _ Monsieur _ ! But he does not listen to me!” She said loudly.

Thomas finally looked at her and, very honestly, very… vulnerable, he asked:

“And why do you think he listens to me?”

“Is this a test?” Marion asked, weirdly on her guards. “Because if it is, you can tell him-”

“Marion! Marion, it’s not a test, I’m very… lost.  _ Je suis perdu, Marion, je ne comprends pas. _ I- I just don’t understand.” 

Finally, they looked at each other as they were : two individuals stuck on the Alfie train, not knowing how they got there and not knowing what they were supposed to do.

“I’m not supposed to talk about Mister Alfie when he’s not here, he’d be very angry if he knew we had such a conversation.”

“One last question, Marion. Just one.”

And that’s when he knew. She could tell him anything, she could deliver any information to him, to Inspector Campbell. He could finally have the government off his back for a while. But, he realized he couldn’t. He had a more urgent question… with himself.

“Why is he like that? Why does he need to be this… big shot? I knew other people just like him, but they were… I knew exactly why they became like this. I just don’t get him.”

She thought about it for some time. She probably didn’t expect this question, but she looked relieved to hear it.

“I’m not an expert, but I would say he has some rage he… hasn’t dealt with. It’s not for prestige or wealth. He does not care about that. It’s more… the english word is good, it’s ‘spite’. To show people that he can? Maybe to show himself?"

* * *

Thomas would’ve willingly went to his apartment after such a long day but Alfie insisted that he forgot some important papers in his office. He obviously accepted to go and, Solomons, softened by the painkillers, accepted while snoring. Now, it was the middle of the night and not a sound rose from the bakery. He quickly went in and almost cursed when something seemed off. A light was still on in the back. He didn’t want to go check and he almost let it go when he heard some voices coming towards him. Exactly towards him. Efrayim, seconds later, was at the door. 

“What are you doing here, Dog?” The chief of workers asked.

“Same to you. And who were you talking to?”

Efrayim raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

“It’s late,” he added with sass. 

“Indeed, it is,” Thomas said, too tired to take any shit. “Therefore, I must ask. What are you doing here… and with someone.”

“I’m alone, Shelby. And I’m just here to check things a second time. We need to be sure accidents like today don’t happen tomorrow.” 

Thomas simply nodded and took the papers he needed.

“Good. Be sure that everything is well. Alfie won’t be able to come tomorrow. He has a ‘three days leave’ by a doctor.”

“A doctor?” Efrayim exclaimed, absolutely shocked. “How did you- Did he- And he’s going to follow what the doctor said? What did you do to him? Did you gypsy him?”

“No, I… I talked to him?” Thomas said, surprised by the genuine shock on the other man’s face.

“And voodoo’d him?”

He looked at Efrayim.

“Yes. I voodoo’d him, Efrayim. And now I’m stealing all those documents to finally reveal my villainous plan.”

“Fuck off, Shelby,” he exclaimed while watching him get out of the office.

Thomas looked at him too, he wasn’t sure he should go. He felt like staying until Efrayim went out, but he was so tired and he didn’t like the thought of Alfie waiting for him.

“See you tomorrow, Efrayim.” He said, too tired to care.

He actually walked really fast to Alfie’s house, but even then, he wasn’t surprised to see that everybody was asleep when he finally arrived. He sighed and made himself a cup of tea, the papers still in his hands. He hesitated to look at them, but he finally sat down, realizing how no one expected him to do such a thing. And he needed something to give to Campbell, anything. The papers, in fact, didn’t say much beside the total of a month’s money for Solomons, which Thomas had already guessed. Still, he told himself it was better than nothing and he tried to avoid the relief he felt at the poor information he had on Alfie Solomons. 

He made a glass of water and, in the calm hours of the early morning, made his way to Alfie’s bedroom. Opening the door with care, he slowly made his way in the dark room and could, after some seconds, make out the nightstand. He put the papers and the full glass of water on it. He looked at the floor, but his will finally gave out. He looked at Alfie. He felt the smallest smile make its way to his lips. Hands above his head, on his back and his mouth just opened enough to let out a deep breathing, Alfie was as threatening as an old dog. A sweet old dog. 

Without even thinking about it, Thomas left to change himself in the guest bedroom and collapse on the bed he only slept in once. He didn’t know how this house became so familiar to him and so comfortable so quickly, but he didn’t have the time to think about it. He went to put his gun under his pillow, but, looking at it, he preferred to put it in the nightstand. 

He fell asleep as soon as he hit the mattress, knowing he only had a few hours before he would need to fight to make Solomons stay in bed and leave work alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRADUCTION
> 
> Je ne comprends pas- I don't understand  
> Je suis perdu- I'm lost  
> Monsieur- Mister  
> Bizarre- Weird


	7. The Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I love this chapter (we're getting more into the relationship thing), so enjoy!!!

"Don't try to sweet-talk me, Shelby, I'm going there, right, and that's that." Alfie said with a finger in the air, very determined. 

"Alfie, you're literally still in bed," Thomas said with a smile, not believing him one second. 

He read the journal, sitting on a sofa in the corner of Alfie's room, while ignoring a cup of coffee. Alfie was still covered in blankets, drinking tea and eating for four. He seemed more happy today, Thomas noticed, but it was obvious his back was still hurting.

"Oi! Pretty boi! What did I say about being smart?" Alfie exclaimed with humour.

"A double compliment today, Alfie? I did think you were in a good mood," Thomas said with a smug, putting his face (and his blush) right back behind his journal.

Silence followed as Alfie tried to think back to what he said, not realizing when he gave Thomas said 'compliments'.

"You won't distract me from my point," Alfie said.

Thomas let out a laugh and moved to get on his feet. 

"I already did."

As he went to get out of the room, even though he felt weirdly comfortable in it, Solomons made sure to stop him. He got on his feet. Thomas stopped, barely looking back. 

"You're on bed-rest, Alfie." He said between his teeth.

"I'm fine and I have medicine now. I'm perfectly capable of-"

But it was too late. Thomas made an 180 to take Alfie by his pyjama and look at him in the eyes very closely. Alfie swallowed although he didn't feel threatened by the sudden move. 

"Don't you dare take this lightly, I can't-"

But he stopped himself. Thank god he stopped himself. This was going too fast, too fast for him to understand what was going on. What was happening to him.

He let out a heavy and shaky breath before letting go of Solomons. Alfie seemed to be way too understanding for the kind of confusion Thomas was in. 

"I'll write down everything that happens and will bring you every paper you need. I'll say you're on a business trip and that you'll be there as soon as possible. I'll come back every night in case you have a question or something, I just…" 

Solomons stayed silent before Thomas' monologue. He was waiting for the part that the other seemed incapable of saying. 

"'I just' what, Thomas? What do you want? You know I can't just let them ruin what I spent years building!"

"I can't fucking… People not caring about their health, it's… it's bad for business and all."

"Stop playing charades or whatever games you're doing and just say what you bloody think!" Alfie said, dying to hear a good reason to stay.

"I don't fucking want you to die, you moron!" Thomas screamed before shutting the fuck up. 

Alfie felt satisfied, but as soon as he saw the pale look on the other's face, his insides turned sour. He pinned down Thomas by his shoulders. 

"If I ever die, pretty boi, it won't be because of ya and that's just a fact, right? Now," he said as he let go of Thomas, a smile on his lips, "it's nothing but a back problem, so quit being so dramatic or I'll start to think you really care about little ol' me."

Thomas seemed like he wanted to say something, maybe an apology, but he couldn't. He simply looked at Alfie with his 'sad puppy' face. Alfie knew he was done for. 

"Well, for fuck's sake, don't… don't be like that. It's okay, I can… I guess I can take half a day off."

"A whole day. For now. And I'll need to convince you tomorrow too." Thomas said as he followed Alfie to his bed, almost wanting to rearrange the blankets on him. He would've smiled if he didn't feel so small and weak still. 

"I cannot-"

"We're partners, right? That's what you asked me the other day."

Alfie looked at him in the eyes. 

"Yes, Thomas, we're partners," he whispered.

"Then you need to trust me and to let me do things for you. More things than to guard your bloody door."

A few seconds later, Alfie rolled his eyes before agreeing to take the day off. 

"But if anything happens, you better call me or I swear to God himself I'll-"

But the way Thomas sighed with a tender smile made him forget anything about a threat. 

"I'll read you what happened today once I come back tonight," Thomas promised. "Stay in bed and don't take more than two pills!"

It didn't take more than five minutes for Alfie to fall asleep again. 

* * *

"You killed him, didn't you?"

"For the last time, Efrayim! No, I didn't kill Alfie!" Thomas exclaimed, searching for a paper the head of workers was now asking for. He felt weird going through Alfie's stuff but he didn't want to call him. "But maybe I will, after going through this mess! Who keeps alcohol with letters and- and there's snacks with the bills! What does it mean?"

"It means he checks his bills in the afternoon when he's hungry and only look at his personal letters late in the evening. There's an order, it's just… it's by hour and moods."

Thomas sighed but felt relieved to finally have some clues.

“Fucking finally,” he breathed, finding the papers about the men working in the bakery.

He gave Efrayim the papers and they both nodded. It was the first day where they had been civil with one another, knowing they had to put everything aside to make this company run smoothly without Solomons. 

Efrayim went his way and Thomas closed the door behind him. He quickly went to the desk again, checking what he thought he saw earlier. The numbers. The correspondences. Personal notes. In other words, as Campbell would’ve put it: How much he makes, who are his allies and what does he plan to do next. He only scratched the surface when a knock was heard on the door. Even if he knew how to make it look innocent, he got scared it might be the head of workers, again. Thankfully, it was only Ollie, looking quite small and nervous. Thomas made him a quick move of the hand to let him know he could come in. He still looked in Alfie’s stuff. Ollie wasn’t the sharpest of them all, he wouldn’t suspect a thing.

“Mr Solomons isn’t here?” Ollie asked, looking everywhere.

“Why, are you looking for him? Did you do something?” He looked at Ollie right in the eyes, making him understand he didn’t want any fucking trouble.

“Hum, no, no, actually, I’m here to ask you something. Is he not here?”

“So you did do something?”

“No! I- I just wanted to know if… you know… rumours… about Yefet’s death? It’s just… Vincent is coming back today and I wanted him to… be comfortable.”

Thomas looked at him, expecting something from him.

“He’s coming back today?”

“Yes, Mr Shelby.”

“And you want to give him some news?”

Ollie seemed even more nervous. He nodded multiple times. 

Thomas took a cigarette out of his pack, but before he pulled out his lighter, he remembered the many speeches anti-smoking Solomons gave him in this office. He got out and closed the door.

“Come with me.” He said to Ollie, taking him to his smoking spot. He passed Efrayim on his way. “Scream if anything happens.”

“I’m not fucking screaming for you, Dog.” Efrayim exclaimed, bitterly, looking back at his papers and a worker he had a problem with.

“Good, then come pick me up like a man. I’ll be outside.”

And he left before the other man could say anything. Ollie was still following him, trying not to show his smile. 

It was gray and somber outside, but they all saw worse and considered it a good day. Thomas lit up his cigarette. 

“So you might want to fucking tell me why the fuck you think I’d protect your ass in front of your boyfriend. When you fucking kill a man, you own it. Now, I don’t fucking care about it and you shouldn’t care either. The police would’ve arrested you by now if they did give a shit.”

Ollie’s eyes went dark. Darker than Thomas could’ve ever imagined.

“I know you play with innocent lives like playing cards, Mr Shelby, but don’t you fucking dare to assume anything about me or my wrong-doings ever again. And certainly not in front of Vincent, whom you will never ever fucking dare to refer to as my ‘boyfriend’. Am I fucking clear on that matter?”

Thomas said nothing. He began to suspect Ollie had actually nothing to do with the murder. But by the current look on Ollie’s face, he knew he was capable of such a thing.

“It’s not even noon and you’re already taking a break? Even the nurses looked more busy than your lot.” A voice by the door of the bakery exclaimed. Vincent came closer, a big smile on his face.

“Is it clear?” Ollie whispered dangerously to Thomas, putting a smile for the figure coming towards them.

Thomas smiled.

“Don’t have much choice but to say yes, now, do I?” Thomas said between puffs of cigarette. “Vincent! Glad to see all your blood's inside again!”

* * *

All in all, it had been a calm day (with the steady efforts of both Shelby and Efrayim) and Thomas should be on his way to Marion’s, if he could only finish his report of the day. He even had the time to brainstorm how they could take down Sabini and what they would need. He knew the time to strike was approaching and he felt like they didn't make any progress on their plan. Also he-

“Fuck you! Don’t fucking talk to me! No! Stop, I don’t want to fucking hear it!” An angry voice screamed. Thomas looked up.

“It’s not me, I promise, you know me, don’t-”

“Don’t fucking follow me, Ollie, don’t you fucking dare touch me!”

Thomas saw Vincent run out of the main door, looking red out of anger. The man had been crying. Ollie followed quickly after. 

Thomas rolled his eyes. He added on his list of events of the day ‘Vincent and Ollie broke up?’ He didn’t know if it was such a big deal, but he felt like Solomons wouldn’t like it very much if he missed anything. Tired and knowing his day was far from done (he still had to talk to Alfie), he put on his coat and made a last round in the bakery before leaving. He light up a cigarette and put in one pocket his list of events and in the other, the informations he had taken on Solomons' operation (he wouldn’t give it all in one go, of course, but he felt calmer knowing he had everything Campbell wanted him to find about Alfie). 

If he took another itinerary, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. If Alfie had been there or if he had taken a car or a horse, nothing would've happened. But there it was. When Thomas Shelby took a turn on a smaller road, five Italians were waiting for him. But wait, they did not at the first sight of their target. Thomas barely had time to look up before the first man hit him in the face.

* * *

It was several hours later now and he was in a bathtub. He suddenly realized where he was and in how much pain he was. He slowly looked at the walls. An old red. Was he at Alfie’s? He did remember walking, but… Yes, he remembered walking to his house. But he didn’t meet no one. He heard Marion in the kitchen and some steps at the second floor, but he didn’t make anything of it. He went straight for the bathroom. Maybe he had been there for hours. The water was cold now and disgustingly red. It wasn’t his blood, he tried to remind himself. It was Sabini’s men. And they had been pretty confused when he slipped a knife from his ankle, blinding one and gutting another. They took his gun, but they didn’t think he would have a knife, and surely not Alfie’s. He kept it from his first test, knowing it would come handy. He didn’t know how much he was right. 

He wanted to get out of the tub, now, but all his body protested. He suddenly noticed he still had most of his clothes on. 

_What the fuck._

He checked his body for bullet wounds and luckily found none, but he knew his face and abdomen would be in a pitiful state. Also, his clothes were now good for the trash. They bathed in this red matter for long enough to never spare with its smell. Thomas only wished he had some alcohol to make it more bearable. He also wondered how no one asked what he was doing in the bathroom for such a long time. He finally got up, slowly and with multiple grunts, but he succeeded nevertheless. He was breathing loudly when he tried to think as to what he should do. He was, after all, soaking wet and in unwearable clothes. He stopped caring. He took out his shirt and his pants and wore his jacket (dry luckily since he took it off before going in the bath) as a towel around his waist. He let out the water in the tub and put his disgusting clothes in it to dry or to rot. He didn’t care.

The house was strangely silent and without a sound, Thomas fetched his pyjama (the one he had been wearing for a a couple of nights now) before returning to the second bathroom (which had recently been upgraded with a shower). He quickly washed himself of the blood and the dirt and the hits and the names they called him. He washed himself of everything. The water was so cold, it almost did the trick. He stepped out of the shower and put his pyjama. The clothes felt like salvation on his terribly aching body. He put his coat on his bed, before going downstairs and unconsciously make a glass of water and take a handful of ice to put inside a towel. He held it on the eye he knew would be purple tomorrow. He then went upstairs again, took the list of events in his jacket pocket, put the glass of water on Alfie's nightstand and sat on the sofa he sat on that very morning. Alfie was asleep and he didn't want to wake him up so he simply made himself comfortable and in a position where he didn't need to hold the pack of ice to make it stay on his head. He felt himself falling asleep and for once, he didn't care. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment! :)


	8. The Next Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This contains harsh words and harmful vocabulary. Also, I'd like to make it clear that I only portray Italians in this fanfic as 'vilains' for the continuity of the show and more relatable and likeable italian characters are to appear in this fic!
> 
> Have a great day, y'all!

His face hurt. Fuck his face hurt! He breathed deeply. 

_Fucking scum of the earth! All of you! Fucking sluts and sodomites! Retarded!_

He lost control of his breathing. It felt like his lungs were gonna explode in his chest. All his body hurt. He couldn't move. He couldn't move. 

_Appropriate how he made you his bitch! Fucking jew and a gypsy. We'll kill two scums in one go._

"Thomas? Thomas? Tommy!"

Thomas took the gun he had under his pillow and, ignoring the awful sound his arms made, he pointed it towards the voice. 

"Oi! Hey, it's alright. It's me!" Alfie exclaimed, raising his hands. 

Thomas looked around, still holding the gun with trembling hands. 

"Who did that, Thomas? Tell me right fucking now."

He found his balance once again, trying to avoid the echo of the voices of last night. He put his gun down. 

"Did you just call me 'Tommy'?" He said between his teeth, harshly. 

"I- Maybe, I don't-"

"Never do that again. Just a tip to stay alive."

He slowly made himself sit on the sofa, Alfie sitting on the floor in front of him.

"What happened?" Solomons breathed more calmly. 

Thomas rolled his eyes but it hurt his head. He put both his hands on his eyes but felt the same pain that woke him up. 

"Sabini. He sent some men to find me when I got out of the bakery. It's nothing. I'll just- Am I late? I'll just sit for a few seconds and I'll get going, don't worry. Also, don't sit that way, it'll hurt your back." Thomas said, feeling more confused by the second. 

"You will do no such thing! I already called Efrayim to say it was our day off anyway. You're in no shape to work, Thomas, did you look at yourself?"

"Better not," Thomas answered, letting the other man inspect him and his bruises. 

" _Toc-toc! Bon matin- Arg- Monsieur Shelby, qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Pourquoi ne m'avez-vous pas prévenu? Les hommes et leur égo, je vais les-_!"

"Marion! Stop your french blabla you're not making any sense and you're talking way too loud!"

"You're both being loud," Thomas replied, hands on his face. 

Marion let out an annoyed sigh before letting her tray on Alfie's bed and exiting the room. 

"I'm sorry about her," Alfie whispered. 

"It's fine, she was just surprised. She was mad I didn't say anything," said Thomas. "Alfie?"

"Yes, dear?" 

Thomas had the smallest of smile. 

"Could you stop putting pressure on my face. It's a bruise. It hurts."

Alfie suddenly made a step further away, realizing he had been tracing Thomas' cheeks and forehead with his fingers for a few minutes now. 

"Of course, very sorry."

Thomas looked at him with a smile. An obvious smile, not one he tried to hide. He felt secure for once. He felt calm. Something he hadn't felt in years. He realized he didn't want this mission to end. He didn't want Alfie to know, he didn't want Alfie to hate him. 

Thomas breathed a few times.

"Is that coffee?" He said, pointing at the tray.

* * *

At the kitchen table, and after multiple apologies, Thomas was being taken care of by Marion. After a good look in the mirror, he realized it was worse than what he had hoped for. Almost half of face was covered in a mauve-blue bruise and his torso was a patchwork of colours. But no bones were broken which meant in the historic of bad fights Thomas had in his life, this wasn't so bad. It was noon when Thomas finished telling Alfie what happened the day before and was ready to go.

"What do you fucking mean?"

"I got two functional legs, would be a shame to waste them, now, don't you think?" Thomas said, smoking his cigarette outside, taking the sunshine while it lasted in the London sky.

"It's your free day, why would you-?"

"I just want to make myself… useful. I can't just stay here, Alfie, not after yesterday. I got to show them it didn't affect me. I can't be intimidated."

"Oh, so what, you're just gonna show up at the bakery, looking like a fucking walking flower with all that colour on your bloody face?"

Thomas nodded. 

"That's the plan."

"Stubborn handsome man," Alfie exclaimed, going back inside. "And what did I bloody say about that fucking cigarette habit?"

Thomas was glad Alfie didn't push the matter of the bakery. Truth was, the assault of last night couldn't have been unpredicted. Anybody could've known Alfie's free day. Every worker knew it. Some civilians knew it. It wasn't a coincidence they took Thomas the day before. They knew he wouldn't go to the bakery that day. If he was Sabini, today would be the day he would prepare a coup. He simply wasn't sure why he felt the need for Alfie to be as far away as possible. 

He quickly finished his cigarette, thanked Marion again for patching him up and awkwardly said bye to Alfie. He promised to be back tonight. 

"Well I sure fucking hope so!"

* * *

It had been five minutes. Five minutes. And Efrayim was still laughing at him. He finally took his gun out. 

"Want to laugh a bit more, clown?" He said. 

Efrayim took a few seconds to recollect himself. He finally went away, breathing "fucking dalmatian" or some other thing.

It had been three hours now and nothing happened. Thomas felt very tired and he was about to head home, realizing that nothing happened, when a loud bang snapped his eyes wide opened. He took both his guns and hid behind the office's door. Gunshots were finally heard from downstairs. He opened the door. At the end of the corridor, he saw Efrayim, making his way outside of the building. 

"Fucking coward little shit." he snarled as he took a glance out of the office. He had some time. He made his way to a protected blind spot close to his door. He saw several workers running to the other end of the building. Thomas was quite sure Sabini would think to place his men at every entrance, but he couldn't say it. He couldn't make any noise. He didn't want the Italians to know where he was. 

"What the fuck happened to your face?" Ollie, who had been in this very corner since the start, whispered loudly. He had a sniper gun with him. 

"What the fuck are you doing with this gun?" Thomas whispered back, still on edge. 

An Italian made his way into the building. Thomas didn't even have the time to react that Ollie already killed him. Bullet in the head. Perfect shot. 

"I was a sniper in '17 and '18. Best of my company. Solomons keeps me around mainly 'cause he knows I could protect this fucking building eyes closed. What the fuck are you doing here? And with that face?"

As many men made their way towards the center of the place, the discussion died and both men simply did their job, just as they did in France and Belgium (where Ollie was placed). A job no one should have to do. A job undeserving of such a name. It was a crime but it was necessary nevertheless. Deep inside, both men wished it wasn't.

There had been more Italians than Thomas had predicted and just as he was gonna be out of bullets, Thomas was shot in the shoulder. Ollie dealt with the shooter immediately but he couldn't take his eyes off the floor beneath them to look at Shelby's wound. 

"Are you okay? Do you need a medic?" Ollie asked, not leaving the first floor out of his sight.

"Ain't no medic here, Ollie. Fuck! I'm alright." Thomas breathed, more tired than anything. "Do you need help? Are they going?"

"Yeah, yeah, they didn't think I would be here, the assholes. Take that, motherfuckers! Fucking tarts! Give me a few minutes, Thomas."

Thomas would've cared if he didn't feel so fucking tired. He couldn't say anything. He tried to keep his eyes opened. Ollie slapped his feet. 

"Stay with me! I can't let you die, Solomons will kill me."

Thomas laughed and remembered to put pressure on his wound. 

A man he didn't recognize showed up on their side of the floor, gun in hand. Thomas quickly shot him with his last bullet before the man could aim for Ollie.

"Fuck-Fuck-Fuckety-Fuck!" Ollie exclaimed more out of victory. 

Thomas groaned at the pain from his left arm. 

"It's alright, it's alright. Only two left if I- One left if I calculated right. Andddddd- Get out of there you fucking coward!" He screamed at the last hidden man.

The man screamed in italian but he also made the mistake to try to make a run for it. Ollie got him too quick.

Ollie let himself fall to the ground in exhaustion. 

"Well, let's never do that again," he breathed. 

"Cheers to that," Thomas said, holding an imaginary glass. "Can you stay, tonight, Ollie?"

"I mean I guess I could but they won't come back, they-"

"I know, but I need to see a doctor and I need to give the bakery to someone in the meantime."

"And you'd give it to me? Are you insane?" Ollie exclaimed.

"I'm… I'm losing blood, sure, but Efrayim left like a baby so… You're, sadly, the only one I trust here. You stayed and fought. This place means something to you. Do it good. And call Alfie if you need anything, but really don't do it."

Ollie became infinitely more nervous than when men tried to kill him a few minutes ago. Thomas got up and told him three tasks to do tonight before heading home and closing the bakery:

1- Don't burn the bakery.

2- Don't let the enemy penetrate the bakery.

3- Get rid of the dead bodies.

And he called a cab to get him to Marius' house. The man was certainly excited to see him, even with a bullet in his shoulders and bruises all over his face and torso. He patched him up in no time and with more care than Marion could ever aspire to. From the doctor's office, he called Ollie to make sure the bakery was still good and he called Marion to tell her he'll be there for diner. 

He took a cab to get there. 

"So… Sabini tried to take the bakery today," Thomas let out between two small bites. 

Alfie choked on his chicken. 

"He- What?"

“He sent a few men and Ollie and I dealt with it. Now, it’s… it’s finished. Ollie is taking care of the bakery.”

“Ol- OLLIE IS TAKING CARE OF THE BAKERY? Are you fucking insane?”

“That’s exactly what he said me when I told him,” Thomas said before taking another bite. 

“Where the fuck was Efray-”

“Little bitch ran off,” Thomas said.

“And are you…?”

“Bullet in the shoulder. Marius took care of it.”

Alfie looked at him for a solid minute, so long in fact that Thomas stopped eating. Alfie started laughing shamelessly.

“What? What!”

“What kind of fucking week are you fucking having! You think I’m having problems? Look at yourself!” Alfie exclaimed, still laughing.

“Are you really laughing at me right now?” Thomas asked with a smile. 

Solomons laughed some more, nodding.

“I worked there two fucking days, Alfie, and I almost died multiple times! How do you do this everyday? I- I’m serious, Alfie, how do you do this?” 

Alfie gained back some seriousness. 

“Well, that’s why it’s a job for two, mate. You can’t just… do that on your own.”

Thomas nodded, finally leaving his half-eaten plate for later. 

“Thanks for the glasses of water, by the way,” Alfie said casually with a smile. 

Thomas said nothing and tried to hold his blush. Thomas Shelby do not blush, he manfully has blood over his face for health reasons. 

“Would you… Would you, potentially, read tonight?” Alfie asked, looking at his plate.

Thomas tried not to smile and then simply nodded, barely looking at the other man.

A job for two.

* * *

Marion was no fool. She didn't make it out of her pitiful small town in the South of France to be a working woman in a renowned gallery for no reason. She knew how people worked, why they acted like so. A sixth sense her family told her. And she knew how to use it. Her husband, the nephew of the owner of the gallery, didn't believe her at first when she said they needed to go. But she knew. She could smell danger a million miles away. She saw how people regarded her differently now that she was married. They didn't care that her Alfred was the kindest man she ever met or that he told her everyday how lucky he felt to have her in his life. No. They cared that he was jewish. She knew, and deep down, so did Alfred. It was in 1909 when she convinced him to go the London. If only her husband had survived from his cancer, he could've told her that Paris was fine that she had nothing to worry about. He died in 1914. Two months after the war started. And she could only be grateful that he didn't see the inhuman atrocity and joke of a conflict turned out to be. But, at first, she hadn't been grateful, she became nihilistic and angry. That was before she met Alfie Solomons. This man saved her from poverty, but more importantly, depressing boredom. The thing is, with poverty, you have a potential survival in sight. Depression and loneliness leave no hope. But he came just like an ungrateful son after a decade of ignoring his parents. He took her like a barely competent mother and she took him like an insufferable brat of a son. And they loved each other. They protected each other. 

But… Marion's sixth sense never left her and Alfie knew the tricks she used, knew how she could understand people's motives. So when he brought Thomas in their home for the first time, it was probably the biggest test the man could ever face. At first, she was relieved. No man had ever entered and passed the Marion's test. Luckily for him, Thomas Shelby had been the first. 

Unfortunately, recently, something rubbed her the wrong way with Thomas and she had been trying to ignore it. But then, she found a red bathtub, dirty clothes and a list. 

Marion was no fool, but she began to think that maybe someone smarter had tried to fool her this time. She put the clothes in the trash and cleaned the bathtub, not that anyone thanked her. She kept her mouth shut about the list. 

But now, in the doorframe of Alfie's room, she kept going on between telling mister Alfie or saying nothing. She kept looking at them, _les deux innocents_. They both had fallen asleep in Alfie's bed, a book between them. Mister under the blankets and _monsieur_ on them. She went to fetch a new one and carefully put it on Thomas. She didn't know what to make of that list but no one makes a list of someone's entire organization without having something planned. 

_J'ai peut-être laissé entrer un ennemi dans la maison._

She felt mostly guilty. But when she looked at them, her sixth sense didn't do anything. She felt love coming from this room. Care. Devotion. Nervousness.

She knew they could be great together, the best for one another. She only hoped Thomas Shelby wouldn't ruin anything about this delightful future she saw. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation (oh boi)  
> Toc-toc! Bon matin- Arg- Monsieur Shelby, qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Pourquoi ne m'avez-vous pas prévenu? Les hommes et leur égo, je vais les-  
> Means: knock-knock! Good morn- Mister Shelby, what happened? Why didn't you tell me? Men and their ego, I will-!
> 
> Les deux innocents  
> Means: the two innocents (BUT! in french, there's a double meaning which could translate as 'the two dumbasses')
> 
> J'ai peut-être laissé entrer un ennemi dans la maison.  
> Means: I might have let an enemy in the house.


	9. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hands up if you're down for another chapter!!  
> I like this chapter and how it goes more into the gypsy side of Thomas! Also we see a guilty pleasure for Alfie.  
> Good reading!!

It was now a week later and they were almost ready to make a move on Sabini. They were still talking about the details of their plans, in fact, when a semi-shy knock on the office's door interrupted them. 

"What?" Alfie screamed.

A very timid worker opened the door, careful to not step into the office. 

"There's a call, sir." The terrified worker said. 

"What do you mean, I got the bloody telephone right here, you-"

"It's for mister Shelby, sir. It's coming from the cigarette shop."

Alfie and Thomas looked at each other with similar surprise.

"I'm sorry, there's a fucking what?" Thomas exclaimed, losing his smile. 

_Fucking dumbass of bloody bitch. Arse of an imbecile. Either it's the wops or it's fucking Campbell and I don't fucking know which is worse. Alfie's gonna get suspicious as it fucking is. Fuck!_

"What?" Thomas asked harshly, finally there and apologizing to mister Garington, the owner of the cigarette shop. 

"I can't keep the missus from coming ova when the telly is taken, boy! Gat yaself a nice telly!"

"I will, I will, mister Garington. Who's speaking and you better make it fast." Thomas said again in the telephone.

"We need to talk," Campbell said on the other end of the line. 

"Well thanks to you we're fucking speaking now, aren't we? In the middle of a fucking shop! And with the fucking telephone people listening!"

"Today, Thomas." Campbell said with his normal smug tone. 

"You don't fucking call me, alright? You want to fucking see me then you fucking see me. You don't ever fucking call me. Not here. Not fucking ever!"

"Two o'clock, normal rendez-vous." 

Just like that. He was fucked. He quickly made his way back to the bakery before he tried to destroy mister Garington's phone. He couldn't just get out of work at 2pm. Alfie was paranoid as it was, especially so close to their attack on the Italians. And if Campbell was asking to see him at such an hour, it was because something happened. Either way, he was fucked. He came back to the office to give an half-assed excuse to Alfie to take a two hour to himself. He said it was family related. 

"I thought you didn't have any family left." Alfie said with his eye twitching beneath his glasses. 

"Well, apparently, I still got enough to give me fucking trouble." He said as he left in a hurry. 

He took three detours in case Alfie put someone to follow him. He was pretty sure he wasn't followed when he finally arrived at the library, about half an hour late. 

The colonel was waiting for him at a table, looking at a closed book about sea animals. As there was barely anyone at that hour, Thomas loudly sat in front of him, not even caring to take a book. He looked at Campbell in the eyes. 

"What in 'undercover so deep it hurts the ass' do you not understand?" He asked the colonel, still outraged by the lack of professionalism and fucking disrespect the other showed him. "You're fucking blowing my cover, what are you thinking?"

"My… contacts are telling me you're getting too close to Alfie Solomons. That you're becoming… soft." He said with disdain. He finally looked in Thomas' eyes. "You're forgetting your mission, operative." 

" _You're_ fucking forgetting my mission! I'm doing exactly what you fucking asked me to do!"

"Barely, Thomas!" Campbell shouted before containing himself in the echo of the quiet library. "You brought us nothing but weak information, agent. You're staying there and killing time as a- as a self-entertainment! I told them, I did, that we should've never brought you into criminal territory. It raises the rotten parts of your very soul! I warned Churchill himself-!"

"Churchill is behind this? Why?"

"Well, after all, Italians and Jews are taking over _his_ city. After Solomons, he wanted to make you look on Sabini."

"Are you- They know each other, they know my whereabouts. If you think the Italians don't fucking know I'm with Solomons, you're both fucking dumbasses!"

"Don't you insult our Prime minister, you-!"

"Or what? You're already sending me to the fucking butchery by the looks of it. Sabini would never let me into his gang. He just fucking tried to kill me last fucking week!" He said, resisting the urge to exclaim his personal hatred for the Italian crime boss.

"And here you are, alive as ever! I'm not here to hear some fucking comments on our country hero's plan, I'm here to deliver. Now, you're a smart pony, Thomas, you'll figure a way out…"

"Alfie would kill me," he breathed, barely loud enough for Campbell to hear. 

"'Alfie'? You're using birth names now? That's what I'm saying. You cannot let anything get between you and your mission. You're an operative in this, nothing else. And the second Solomons finds out, oh, believe me, you'll wish he only killed you. He'll probably get to Ada before we can."

"Fuck you! You and your scenarios and hypothesis! My point is that these plans of yours are organized by people who do not understand the politics of the streets! Your thick strategies are gonna get me killed!"

"And here I am, Thomas, tired of hearing myself repeating: since when do you care?"

Thomas got up, tired of this, of everything, he couldn't hear himself think. 

"We got you a nice apartment, Thomas, why don't you use it once in a while and stop whoring yourself in someone else's home?" Campbell screamed while Thomas was making his way towards the exit. 

* * *

He barely made it to the bakery and tried to go into the office but simply couldn't. He didn't know why but his body rejected the idea. He did a tour of the building to make sure everything was alright and then made his quick way to his smoking spot. His hands were shaking and he hated when that happened. It wasn't something Campbell said, it wasn't… anything. His mind was spinning too fast for him to understand why he was reacting so much. Maybe it was that all the layers of his plan suddenly mixed themselves or felt too fragile. But Sabini's last hour was planned, Alfie didn't suspect him to be such a thing as a spy and Campbell could always be fed what information he retrieved from his free days. 

It took him three cigarettes to calm down and he was sitting on the floor, ruining his suit, although he didn't care. He couldn't point where his plan had a torn. He simply felt like a flaw was making its way. But where and why?

"Can I sit?" A grave voice asked. 

Thomas didn't even need to look. 

"It's your bakery," he said, playing with a small rock on the asphalt, still holding on to his cigarette for dear life. "How did you know I was here?" He asked before taking a puff. 

"Ollie told me," Alfie answered calmly, sitting close to Thomas, on the floor. 

Thomas nodded and they shared a silence that lasted probably longer than any other they had before. The man was actually surprised Alfie could stop himself from talking for such a long time. The thought made him a bit more relaxed. 

"Was it about the call?" Alfie asked, finally. 

He knew he shouldn't say anything, should completely change the subject and try to never talk about it again, but… he was so tired of lying. To Alfie, especially. And he breathed this moment. Where Alfie was there for him. He couldn't recall someone doing something like that for him. Maybe Polly, some years before the war. He breathed, eyes closed and nodded. 

"That's alright," Alfie whispered. 

Thomas could only see the other's arm. Lying by their side. 

"Thomas, what were you doing at the library?" Alfie asked, still in a whisper. 

The Shelby felt the sudden need to carefully brush Alfie's arm. Something to keep his mind off. With his little finger first, then with all the tip of his hand, he grazed the other's skin. 

"Lorraine works there. Marius' wife." He tried to ignore the adrenaline boiling in his blood.

"And why did you see Lorraine?"

Thomas was slowly passing his hand on the heavy arm, following the veins and the bones. Alfie made no move, he simply looked. 

"She gives letters from Ada to me."

"Is it Lorraine that called?" Alfie asked, still very calm.

Thomas nodded. He kept looking at their hands, almost touching. He focused on that, not on the lies. 

"Why did she call?"

"She read my mail and Ada was taken into custody yesterday. She was released today. It's alright." Thomas repeated as he slowly brushed the other's hand, silently playing with his fingers. "I told her to call me in case of anything urgent."

"You seemed awfully surprised for someone who had planned this," Alfie whispered, his voice a little higher than normal. 

Thomas finally held the other's hand in his and it felt good. It felt great. And he didn't look at Alfie, but the man kept rubbing his thumb on the Shelby's colder skin. 

"I guess I forgot, Alfie."

They didn't speak, their bodies spoke for themselves and as they held on to each other in this dark spot, behind the building, Thomas recognized the flaw in his plan. He simply didn't know if he wanted to do anything about it. He made a small and juvenile laugh and put Alfie's hand on his lap, opening it so he could clearly see its lines. 

"Are you gonna predict me future, now, gypsy boy?" Alfie asked, coming a bit closer.

"Why, what do you want to know?" Thomas said, still holding and touching, but finally looking at the other in the eyes. 

The gypsy smiled as Alfie felt suddenly light-headed, felt suddenly trapped in the most beautiful and wonderful scheme. 

"Just read," Alfie said, putting his head on the wall behind them. 

So Thomas did. 

"Well all your lines are deep, which means a solid and stubborn character. It says you're an artistic type but that doesn't involve work. Wait, you had a change of work? What did you do before?"

"You just knew," Alfie said, not believing him one second. 

He didn't. It wasn't even written in his government dossier. 

"I was gonna work as a lawyer, actually. Become Judge Solomons, a fearful judge, but a fair judge nevertheless."

Thomas smiled. 

"But then it breaks at your fate line. I guess you were always supposed to be here."

"And how is business?" Alfie asked, still kidding. 

"If you want to know, you'll need to pass me your other hand. This is the emotion hand, the left hand. That's why they put the wedding ring on it."

A left hand Thomas had in both of his right now. Alfie looked at him tenderly. He slowly gave him the other hand and Thomas didn't dare look at his eyes. 

"Again, deep lines. And that health line isn't as neat as I'd want it to be, but I've seen worse. Now, this is interesting…"

This is something he hadn't done in a while. He used to do it all the time when he was younger. His mother showed him, always laughing because Thomas' hands always meant chaos in any lines. 

"And what is that line?"

"That's the heart line, Alfie." He said and it shut the other man up. "It's pretty short which means you're a private person, but the fact that it's unbroken means you're… devoted and loyal when in love."

A moment passed before Alfie slowly turned his hands down.

"And what do your hands say?"

Thomas laughed. 

"They're unreadable. They mix and break all over the place," he said, still allowing Alfie to take and observe and play with his hands. The sight of it all made him smile.

"Well this one ain't so bad," Alfie said, looking at the end of his fate line.

"Yes, I guess so," Thomas said, only noticing it.

"And where do I need to check to know if you'll come with me?" 

"Sorry?"

"We need to go to the tailor, Thomas, I told you yesterday," Alfie said with a smile, letting both their hands fall but still touching in a way.

"Wh- Why are we going to the tailor? I have suits already and-"

"I know and they are lovely, but you need a new one for the race thing. I'm not bringing an underdressed date. Well! Not a date, no! More like a bodyguard! Not that I need one at all, but… Well I do need to bring someone, now, don't I?"

Thomas said nothing and tried not to blush. 

* * *

A tired man read the journal as they entered the shop. He barely looked at the pair. 

"Mr Ikeda, always a pleasure." Solomons exclaimed, even though the man couldn't care less. 

"You're late," Mr Ikeda said. "Don't do it again, Mr Solomons. Rei doesn't like it."

"I would sooner quit coming than lose Rei's time, sir." Solomons said, still with enthusiasm.

"I thought Ikeda was the tailor, isn't him?" Thomas began whispering before being shushed by Alfie.

They stepped in the back room and Mr Ikeda simply turned the page of his journal. Behind a thick curtain was a proper atelier with all the machinery, the garments and the stale and mirrors for the client to test what it looked like. On a support, multiple fancy suits and some few dresses were ready for pick up.

"Alfie, is that you?" An excited voice screamed from under a few mountains of tools and works in progress. 

"Of course it's me, you know I can never stay long enough without seeing you!" Alfie screamed back. 

"You never wear suits, I literally never saw you-" Thomas whispered loudly, confused and angry for some reason. He hated tailors. 

"Good evening to ya, master of the needle," Alfie exclaimed when a very small figure made its way towards them. 

Thomas had to look twice. The suit didn't match the face. He looked again. Thomas realized he had never seen a woman in a full suit before. 

"Alfie! Always a pleasure! And who is this?" Rei said as she stepped out of Alfie's embrace. She looked at Thomas with sudden disgust and suspicion. "I don't like him. He's pretentious. You brought an entitled in my store, Alfie?"

"What the fuck did you just call me?" Thomas asked, more shocked than frustrated.

Rei Ikeda sighed deeply while rolling her eyes. She looked Thomas in the eyes.

"Alright, princess, I'm doing you a favor here, cause Alfie is almost family, but please… don't talk."

"What?" Thomas exclaimed again. 

Alfie tried to hide a smile. He was having way too much fun. Ikeda made her way back to find her measuring tape and a pen to write them down. Thomas came closer to Alfie. 

"Where did you bring me? This isn't a tailor, and women aren't… isn't it illegal for women to wear a suit?"

"It's not illegal, dear," Ikeda screamed, a bit in the back, "when you design for the royal family."

"And since when do you care about what is legal or not?" Alfie teased. 

They both had a good point. 

To this followed long and hard hours of Alfie arguing firmly but still politely with the tailor about this fabric or that detail. He was in fact quite picky for a man who didn't wear suits, where as Thomas prefered to take the same generic suit every time. 

At the end, Thomas, standing in all this talking and sometimes screaming, wanted to simply get out and just… stop. But he couldn't. Not because Alfie would drag his ass back in there, which he would probably do, but because of the look he had when he looked at him. Tenderness. Open affection. Not knowing what to say and not wanting the look to go away, he said nothing. And Ikeda seemed satisfied. She finally said she could finish it in less than a week and Alfie and her shared a friendly hug and parted ways as if no arguments had been going on a mere ten minutes ago. As they went to the door, the man, still reading at the front desk, said something that seemed like a forced "good day".

It was in the car that Thomas let out his frustration. 

"There is… possibly hundreds of tailors in London-"

"But none of them are as good," Alfie pointed, still happy of their meeting.

"And I already have suits, I could've worn any of them, I could've-"

"Thomas?" Alfie stopped him, very serious now, although still calm and proper. "We are gonna be on dirty country roads for almost four days soon. Can't you just let me have this?"

"What do you mean 'we'? You don't have to come! Your back-"

"Has never been better, thanks to your care. But also, and more importantly, you're not going recruiting without me."

"But-" Thomas tried again. 

"Nope."

"I know, but-"

"Not a word."

"Alfie-"

"It is decided!"

"My mom, Alfie! We'll need to see my mom!" Thomas exclaimed, feeling trapped all of a sudden. 

Alfie frowned and quickly looked at Thomas. 

"I thought… Well! Never mind! It'll be a blessed occasion!"

"Nothing 'blessed' about my mom, Alfie. That's the first thing about her."

And if he hadn't felt a chill run through his backbone, maybe Alfie would've taken Thomas' hand in his own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment!


	10. The Recruitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ho, let's go!  
> Chapter 10 finally out!!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy this roadtrip episode!

If Thomas had to describe the four days of their recruitment tour, he would start with their first meeting with their first gypsy family. But if Alfie had to describe it, now, he would begin by the insane logistics of packing and the incredible efforts it took to fit everything in the car, the frustrating insistence of Marion to make them more food and the absolute unbelievable number of times they had to stop to let Thomas piss although the man seemed to never drink anything. Oh and that was without mentioning the many many many speeches he had to give to the younger man about his heavy smoking. But this was a business trip, so let's cut to the chase. 

"The Pollack boys want the north forests, nothing else, nothing more. Here, fucking fanatics are pushing our kind further and further like we're bloody animals or something. They refuse to give us rights or lands. How are we s'posed to live? We want some fucking territory… Like on paper and stuff."

"You know this is all metaphorical ownership that we're talking about, right, Mr Pollack?" Solomons asked, almost amused. 

"I'm just trying to get me people not getting fucked in the arse, that's what _you_ should understand! We're all bloody tired, here, Tommy! You know how t'is, one minute you're sleeping, right, nice and tidy, and the second, the dogs are after ya, trying to get ya and ya people. We just lost Agnes' second daughter last week! Those bloody fucking cops took her, saying she wasn't being taken care for. Fucking lies that is!"

"Listen, Leslie," Thomas, who barely talked in their meeting, said, "I won't be able to get you a document for it, it's the propriety of the british government, alright? Now, what I can give you, is protection. When we get the whole network of the city, we'll be able to control almost everything."

Solomons gave him a side-eye.

"But see, that's not what I asked, now is it? You're royalty, 'round here, Tommy, and we would all voluntarily bleed for ya, but we're out of bloody options."

Pollack looked sincere and Thomas could feel it. Shelby took a breath before coming closer to Alfie, breathing in his ear. 

"You know the reserve, the protected forest in the north-west? You think you could get them a permit or something, there?"

Alfie seemed to weight his options. 

"You think that's our only choice?"

And Thomas felt Alfie's trust hit him like a ton of brick. 

"I- I do think so." Thomas replied, looking into Alfie's eyes before quickly looking away.

Alfie shrugged. 

"Alright, then I'll get you that permit. Two months and I should have it. Now, just tell me the numbers of ya people and caravans and stuff so I can be sure no one's refused."

Something in Mr Pollack's eyes seemed to change. Something like a hardness melted and his shoulders dropped slowly. He seemed younger all of a sudden. 

"Oh thank you, thank you, Tommy."

"Please, it's Thomas, now." He said between his teeth. 

But he seemed so relieved, the man simply nodded, absent minded. 

* * *

"So… royalty, hum?" Alfie brought back not so subtly, hours later. 

"Well…"

"He seemed to think so," Alfie added.

"It's complicated," Thomas tried, not really eager to talk about his family. 

But it was to underestimate Alfie Solomons to think he simply would let go of such a fascinating subject. 

"I'm sure it's not," Alfie let out with a smile. 

Thomas let out a sight as he finished to put together the tent. 

"It's nothing, it's just… My mom is like the daughter of what would be a king or whatever, it's nothing really."

" _Na haljovava._ It kinda suits you."

It was very clear Alfie wanted to show off, but he wasn't the only one who had made their homeworks.

"Заткнись!" Thomas exclaimed playfully.

"Who the fuck told you I spoke russian?" Alfie exclaimed, genuinely surprised. 

But something seemed to grow. A smile on his lips. As no one else was there to see them so comfortable, Thomas and Alfie played that dangerous line of teasing affection. In fact, their tones would've probably kept this half-flirty sound if Thomas didn't notice Alfie had no mattress to sleep on. Not even a small one. It was dirt and that tiny piece of tent which covered the ground. He remembered the last time Alfie had serious back problems and a chill passed through his own back. 

If anyone had asked Alfie how it came to be that Thomas Shelby had the authorization to put ointment on his back, he would simply say it was because of a gypsy trick. He would never allow such a thing. Normally. The gypsy trick in question had been the miserable look of worry in the other man's eyes. Something Alfie Solomons had not yet found any defense against. 

Thomas, finally done, sitting in silence in front of an equally sitting Solomons, breathed a few romani words of good luck and health. When he heard Alfie laugh under his breath, he barely pushed him far from him. 

And the night had been quite difficult for Alfie, but he couldn't quite complain about it as he looked at the paler man on his left, fallen asleep as quickly as he hit the ground. He felt at peace for once. Of course, Alfie knew he could never bring this up without a threat of some kind from the other man, but he still felt lucky to have seen such a sight. 

* * *

Thomas woke up from the heat. The sun was already rising and he definitely had a headache from last night's sleep. His body wasn't used to such a long and undisturbed rest. He felt as one does when they oversleep. He didn't remember when he fell asleep last night. He didn't remember thinking and rethinking and hearing the ground dissolve and trap him. He didn't remember dreaming or having any nightmare. He simply… slept. 

But the heat… it was a warm july morning and the closed tent was becoming more of an issue than anything. Thomas sat down to breath better and almost jumped when he heard a loud snore. 

Alfie was on his side, one arm at his right and one arm at his left as if he dreamt of flying, taking more than the space allowed by the somewhat small tent. His body seemed in fact quite big and he needed to bring his legs towards himself because the place was too small. Thomas looked at the space he took in the night and almost laugh when he notice the mere space. Alfie was placed in such a way, it was quite surprising how they didn't touch in the middle of the night. What wasn't surprising, Thomas thought, was how Alfie Solomons ended up with fucking back problems in the first place. 

It took Thomas one minute to figure out he was smiling like a dork. It took him thirty seconds more to keep that smile from his lips. He knew he was in big trouble for feeling this calm around the bomb that was the loud sleeping man at his side, but he also knew he wouldn't do anything about it. He thought that it didn't make any sense as in a month at best, Alfie would understand he spied on him and would execute him. Considering everything, Thomas was doing Alfie a favor, not acting on anything. He would be easier to kill if there was no feelings involved for the other man. 

Thomas brushed his hand on Alfie's before quickly getting out. He wasn't blind, he could see how Alfie looked at him, he just… He was doing him a favor. Best to not be close to Thomas Shelby. Death stood closer. 

When Alfie finally woke up with a loud groan, a few bones cracking and an even bigger yawn, Thomas was ready to go. In fact, he didn't want to go, but he was eager to finish this day as soon as possible. They needed to see Solanges and then… his Mama. 

"We just need to find somewhere to wash," Thomas said as he put the tent back in the car. Everything, of course, under Alfie's super helpful supervision.

"I thought you people loved it when there's all this mud and nature and whatnot on y'all," Alfie said in a rather good mood. 

He loved seeing Thomas like this. He felt more open, more happy. Maybe he was a bit dirty, but his shoulders felt a bit more at ease and his back a bit more right. Thomas seemed free in nature. He seemed to finally breath. 

"And I thought you people loved everything clean and well done," Thomas repeated with a bit of humor. 

"That's very fair," Alfie laughed, remembering his mother's interminable speeches about cleanliness. 

* * *

Madame Solanges loved only two things in life: Time, a concept she prouded herself in understanding to the fullest (which she did only partially) and Silence. She used to love cats before one disfigured her forever, blinding her left eye. She then lied, saying how it opened her third eye on another world. She, of course, simply felt ashamed. But she did see more than the normal person or even the normal gypsy.

She made a point on always talking romani and she spent the last of her hour insulting Solomons in said language, thinking the foreigner wouldn't understand a thing. And he did pretend to not understand, although he closed his hands in fists under the table. 

"But this isn't about him, Madame Solanges," Thomas continued in romani. "This man is only an accessory, a tool to be used. Our people, listen to me, please, our people are being slaughtered by the police and the government. Imagine now, London. Half owned by the gypsy. Think of what we could do, then."

Madame Solanges was persuaded that the gypsy people were the best people to ever walk the earth and she quite liked what Thomas was trying to show her. 

"And not just any gypsy," she added with her first smile of the day. 

She then continued in english, more than happy to converse with Solomons then. The man faked innocence until the end and Thomas was almost frustrated to see this meeting closing. There was only one stop left for them today. 

* * *

No one was to be seen close to Ma'am Shelby's caravan. Normally, there'd be music and laughing and, at night, dancing, but today, she told everyone to stay in. Today, she said, my son is coming back. 

"Can she read in the fucking future?" Alfie exclaimed, seeing how calm the surroundings of the caravan looked. It was clear she was waiting for them.

"Leslie probably told her we were coming, Alfie," Thomas stopped him, trying to convince himself to get out of the car. "But on her good days, yes."

"What happens on her bad days?" Alfie asked almost in a murmur. 

"Much, much more than that."

A shiver went through his spine. He opened the door but suddenly stopped himself in his way when he heard the sound of a second door being closed. 

"What are you doing?" Thomas exclaimed violently.

"Oh lord, not this again!" Alfie said, already tired from the day. 

"What? No, no, you stay here, this-"

"If you're gonna say 'too dangerous', Thomas Shelby, then take a closer look at who you're talking to," Alfie breathed, still getting out.

"Too… personal," Thomas decided to say. 

Alfie stayed where he was and, taking all the situation in, slowly nodded, rolling his eyes. He sat back in his seat.

"And also way too dangerous, you don't know what she's capable of!" Thomas exclaimed before going to the caravan he knew was the right one. 

Thomas arrived on the doorstep, feeling more exhausted and stressed than he would've thought. He finally knocked. Twice. 

A steady and strong voice told him to come in. You never forget the voice of your own mother, but Thomas felt surprised that it was still so familiar. He opened the door. 

It was dark inside and the first thing that Thomas saw was the smoke from his mother's pipe. 

He closed the door.

"Thomas… sweetheart," she said tenderly before sounding more cold, "you're late." 

He finally saw her. She wore what could barely pass as a smile, but only her eyes looked truly older. 

"Yes, Solanges was…"

"I know," she declared with affection. "So… you met Alfie."

It was not a question in her tone nor was it accusatory. She said it like it was something that was supposed to happen. Like something she saw years before. 

He frowned at the implications of such a statement. 

"Well I can say I'm glad, dear. Your eyes haven't looked like this since your first ride on a horse! But please, bring him in!" Oh, she was having fun at this point. It had been so long since she saw one of her children and she could still see into Thomas like cristal. 

"I'll have to decline," Thomas said, defying her with his tone alone.

His mother's eyes became sharp and her words ran through the smoke as fast as knives. 

"You want something from me, boy, do as I say."

He closed the door behind him and the sudden fresh air almost made his eyes cry. He tried to think of nothing. The fucking Shelby family, always fucking trying to use one another. 

Alfie was sitting in the car, the door open, his eyes closing by the weight of the sun. He almost didn't notice Thomas coming. 

"What? It's already done?"

"Oh, I wish, no, hum… She… wants you to come inside." He said, standing tall although nerve made him jittery. 

Alfie would've been thrilled if he didn't see the look of worry in Thomas' eyes. 

"So, first," he whispered, not wanting his mom to hear, "don't go into her games and don't let her know when she hits a soft spot."

"She'll what?" Alfie exclaimed, being suddenly dragged closer to the caravan. 

"And for the love of any fucking god, don't drink anything she offers! You know what? Just don't talk at all," Thomas concluded. 

"Well, that's your specialty, not mine."

Thomas barely had the time to roll his eyes. 

"Finally!" She exclaimed, more joyful, her pipe out and a cup of tea in her hands. "I made you some chamomile, dear, with some honey, as you like it."

"Oh, that's very kind, but how did you-" Alfie, who was dying for a cup of tea, said. 

So Thomas hit him in his side with his elbow. 

"Ouch, Thomas!" Alfie screamed, as if he was just betrayed. "Don't fucking do that!"

Thomas tried to not feel guilty. But it worked in the end and Alfie forgot about the tea. 

Still, it made Ma'am Shelby laugh in a calm way. 

"Such a sight. I genuinely never thought I would live long enough to see this day," she said with a bit more emotion than she anticipated. 

"We're here for business, Mama."

"Of course, of course. You're here to get some of my best men and women to make a coup against Sabini. You're obviously recruiting right now. It's all in your postures, Alfie, don't look so surprised!"

"And you're gonna help?" Thomas asked, becoming impatient with this game she was playing. Always trying to impress everyone. Always pretending she knew everything. 

But something in her sweet expression changed. She looked at Thomas with honest outrage. 

"The man is responsible for the death of my children and my sister, Thomas! I would've made his life worse than hell if I wasn't so sure you needed to do it yourself. But no matter what, I can promise you he won't survive to see the new year. Now, I've already noticed my people and there's only one thing that I need from you to give them the order."

Thomas rolled his eyes. 

"Of course," he whispered. 

"I need to talk to Alfie in private," she said, calmly, since she knew it would enrage Thomas. 

And it did. His eyes grew wider and his mind started spinning. He didn't know what she knew, possibly every single thing about him, and he didn't know what she would be willing to say. And Thomas loved his mother, but he would never trust her with even a fly. She crushed everything she set her mind on. 

"What? Why?" He exclaimed, louder than he'd wish.

"None of your business, boy," she said so quickly, it was if she knew exactly what her son was gonna say, "and if you want your deal, then this needs to happen. After all, he's part of the deal too."

"But-" Thomas tried. 

"Thomas. Step. Out." His mother repeated. 

"Don't-" He tried to warn her.

"Thomas," Alfie said, finally speaking up and putting a slight hand on the other's arm, "I'll be alright."

Thomas left his mother off his sight to look at Alfie. He swallowed his will to fight. He wanted to warn him of so many things but also lecture his mother for putting him on the spot like this. She probably knew he would be scared for Alfie. She probably knew everything and he was leaving them to just… chat? Fucked, that's what he was. 

Alfie put some pressure on his arm to comfort him but also to bring him back from the spiral of his thoughts. Thomas finally looked at him in the eyes and nodded, hoping Alfie would know to take great care of himself. 

He left the caravan and breathed deeply for a minute, telling himself over and over that his mother wouldn't kill Alfie. Or that she wouldn't say anything that would bring Alfie to kill him.

It took ten minutes for the door to open again. Thomas almost ran towards Alfie. The man looked pale and shocked, but his eyes found Thomas quickly enough. 

Out of instinct, Thomas put his hand on the other's arm, trying to ground him. 

"Are you alright? What-?"

"She wants to see you next," Alfie interrupted him. He said it but something in his tone didn't want to let him go. 

There was fear in the eyes of Alfie Solomons. 

This time, Thomas ran towards the caravan and almost screamed. 

"What the fuck did you do to him?"

His mother was lighting another pipe when he came in. Without a look, she told him, severely:

"Thomas, shut the door before I scream."

He wanted to fight back, to demand answers but he didn't want Alfie even more disturbed by their screams. He closed the door. 

"The son I raised," his Mama began, "wasn't a traitor or a government slut! How dare you tarnish your name and soul with such a pathetic and degrading title!"

"Don't fucking scream, he could hear you!"

"Well I didn't know I had to act as a spy as well!"

"Just tell me you told him nothing," he implored.

"Well, I'm not stupid, Thomas. You are."

And silence fell on them like hot weather on a summer morning. 

"If that's all you wanted to tell me-" he said, more than willing to get out of this place, to go back to Alfie. 

"No, it's not, so sit down. Sit down, I said! I'm still your mother after all," she breathed, looking even more tired. "First of all, stop thinking that everything revolves around you. Ada is fine and she knows she's under surveillance. Now, the second thing is about Alfie-"

"Mama, no. You know that I know-"

"He wants to take care of you, son." She said with all the hope and love she could gather. "Someone wants to take care of you, Tommy. Do you know how rare that is? How special?"

"Is that what he said?" Thomas whispered, trying to look indifferent. 

"No, it's how he acted, you bloody fool! No need to be a gypsy to see that one. You're blocking your eyes with two hands, son."

She then laid a pack of cards in front of him. 

"Oh come on!" he exclaimed, tired. "Tarot, really?"

"We wouldn't need to do it if you looked into yourself once in a while. Now, go, pick three cards. Only left hand."

"I know how to fucking…" he grunted, still mixing the cards and picking carefully. 

He already knew what the past would say. It was _his_ card, after all. 

Past.

The hermit. Reversed. 

"Well that was a given," she exclaimed, almost laughing. Isolation. Over-introspection. Solitude.

Present.

The hanged man. Reversed. 

"Same there," Thomas whispered, feeling the cards boring him. A choice to be made. Standing still. Not wanting to act. 

Future.

The tower. Upright. 

He looked at his mom. Change. Chaos. Loss.

She barely looked at the card, changing the subject. 

"You'll need to apologize and forgive, Thomas, to others… but mostly to yourself. There's still a road for you to travel, so pace yourself. Be kind, Thomas. This world is, but mostly will be, in dire need of kind people."

He slowly nodded, still looking at the third card. 

"Oh and kill that colonel bullshit. That's all that pervert deserves!"

"Yes, Mama."

He closed the door on his way out. 

Had he not been under the still close eye of his mother, Thomas would've held Alfie in his arms. He felt as shaken as Solomons and the floor seemed to lose its solidity. 

In the car, on their way to Birmingham, they did not look at each other once. But a silent agreement was made that they would need to keep a low profile. They were entering Sabini's territory. 

* * *

It had been three years since Thomas crossed the Birmingham limits and yet, it felt as if nothing had changed. For better and for worse. Every street still possessed this haunted and unnerving feeling. The air felt energized by a sense of urgency only the poorest corners of the world could understand. There was dust and garbage lying everywhere as if it was the ground itself. 

Thomas felt right at home. 

And Alfie thought he would get asthma from simply breathing in this town. 

They spent the night at the only thing in town that could be considered a 'motel' that wasn't also a brothel. To save money and time and to maximize protection, they shared the room. Alfie would have laughed at the sight of said 'room' if he didn't feel so tired already. His back was hurt from all the road they drove. 

Alfie didn't talk all day and it must have weighed on him, since he began babbling (although quite silently) about the state of the town and what he would do if he had a property in the countryside. Thomas didn't even nod or look at him, he simply let the other's voice be a background sound. His mind was spinning although it couldn't focus on anything. So he slowly began to listen, truly, losing himself not in his mind but in the other's imagination. He raised his sight to look at him and, even lying on his bed, still, he listened. 

"But you said you would only have a goat," Thomas interrupted, without thinking.

Alfie suddenly stopped, almost losing his train of thought at the idea that someone was actually listening. 

"Well, of course, but this would be a big farm. Can't see why I couldn't have a cow as well!"

"You said the goat was the only animal dumb enough to be left alone and enjoy the day, that's why you said you only wanted that," Thomas added, his eyes slowly shutting, a mere smile still left on his lips since Alfie brought the idea of starting a farm. 

"Well, I- I stand corrected, then, I want my cow, Thomas!"

"You want a cow?" Thomas repeated, doubtful. 

"Yes, I do! It would bring me immense joy to see its lovely big eyes every morning! And don't even try telling me you wouldn't come to my house if you knew I had a cow in me backyard or you'd be fooling yourself too," Alfie warned 

"Fine, Alfie, if you had a cow, I would come see it."

"And it would give you immense joy," Alfie reassured. 

"Sure, it would give me great joy." Thomas laughed quietly.

"And then we could look at me goat. Great dumb creature."

Thomas made a small sleepy laugh.

"We could look at your animals all day, Alfie, but I'd insist on getting a horse," he said.

Alfie bit his lips, overwhelmed by the idea. 

"Then I guess you'd have to stay there, then, because I ain't taking care of your devilish dog!"

"I wouldn't let you alone with my horse! And you're gonna call mine 'devilish'? You got goats!"

" _A_ goat, Thomas. Only one and…"

And Alfie began his theory on why horses are the creation of Satan. Which, as a few theologists already told him, wasn't as far fetched as one would first think. 

Thomas fell asleep around the third argument and Alfie stopped after the fifth, just to be sure. He then went to the sink to freshen himself, feeling the silence oppress him. He tried to not think of it. He then looked at Thomas again. He listened to his breathing. That's all he could hear in the war. Breathings of men terrified around him. That's why he spoke so much, it finally felt alive, it felt safe, it felt far from the war zone. But Thomas breathing was calm. It wasn't anything like the other soldiers'. It was deep and controlled. It was peacefully loud. 

Alfie fell asleep thinking of farms and sweet company. 

The next day, they almost slept until the sun was completely gone, ready for another night. They met Thomas' uncle who didn't trust Solomons for one bloody second and barely trusted Thomas. Finally, Charlie agreed to help them, thinking of Ada and Karl. 

* * *

It was way past anyone's curfew when they arrived at Marion's house and they both weren't surprised to see that she was already asleep. 

Thomas helped Alfie bring all his stuff back to his room and felt quite weird, not knowing what to do next. He felt like he needed to leave, take some time alone, but he also thought that staying would keep him from the shovels.

Alfie didn't look at him in the eyes when he asked him to stay. He was sitting on his bed, looking smaller and much more fragile. 

Alfie slowly grabbed Thomas' hand in his. Thomas did nothing, he didn't want to let go. Alfie looked at their hands. 

"I- I can't, Alfie, it's too…"

"Of course, it's alright. It's nothing." Alfie breathed, letting go. 

Although he deeply wanted to protect him, Thomas suddenly couldn't stand being separated, couldn't stand to avoid getting what he wanted. 

He stood closer and took Alfie's face with two hands before kissing him deeply, trying not to think how the beard tickled him. He could finally taste his lips and close this unnerving distance! Thomas felt adrenaline coursing through his veins and he simply wanted to take more and more of this annoying and perfect man. 

"Fuck," he breathed, feeling a weigh in his whole body being lifted. 

He slowly deepened the kiss when the other's hands in his hair created goosebumps on his entire skin and heat started to build up. His breathing choked. He wanted this too much. It brought him back to what was happening. The best case scenario would've been Alfie hating him and telling him to fuck off for trying to kiss him. The worse case scenario… would be him wanting more. 

Trying to shut his thoughts, he lost himself in Alfie's lips which started to mix with his own, in his touch seeking his skin, in his frantic breathing. But his thoughts were too strong at this point. And they all screamed that this was a mistake. 

He quickly stepped aside, breaking whatever moment they were having. 

"I- I need to go, I'm sorry, I… I need to go," and he left the house in a hurry, leaving Alfie to a bittersweet silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, listen y'all, if ANYONE had ANY doubt that I didn't put much thought into this... Then you clearly didn't see me doing more than 2 hours of research to know which romani dialect the Shelbys would speak (probably baltic) and trying to find 'I don't know' in goddamn baltic romani. Truth be told, it was 2am and after multiple websites and youtube lessons, I only found it in Arli romani (different dialect that shares similarities). Am I disappointed? Absolutely. Will I search further? No way. 
> 
> TRANSLATION  
> Na haljovava- I don't know (in Arli romani)  
> Заткнись- Shut up (in russian)


	11. The Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hewwo peops, it's me, yo boi... 
> 
> Anyway, here to share the 11th chapter!!! Have a great week, y'all. We all deserve some peace and happiness!

“We need to talk.”

Alfie was barely awake, a toast in his mouth, a coffee in his right hand. A million tons of uncertainty on his heart. 

“Sorry?” Solomons said, surprised to see Marion mad, especially towards him 

"What did you do to our lovely Monsieur Thomas? He just call to tell me he'll get to your horse race thing on his own. So please, Mister Alfie, tell me what you did!"

* * *

Fine, so things were awkward. 

They didn't even say hi to each other and while Alfie was admiring Thomas in his new suit, Thomas looked at the other's lips before quickly looking away. 

"You- We- Go?" Thomas stuttered, trying not to sound like an idiot. 

"Yeah, sure," Alfie pressed, quickly making it inside the building, although still staying close to Thomas. 

It took them twenty minutes and five drinks of champagne each to finally be able to talk normally to each other. 

"I love your suit," Alfie laughed, sitting on a table close to the bourgeois version of a dance floor.

"Why thanks, a friend chose it for me," Thomas exclaimed, not leaving Alfie of his sight, barely remembering where he was or why he was there. He woke up that day only waiting to see him and it scared him so, he prefered to not share the road. 

"What an amazingly gifted brilliant friend you got. You must feel lucky to have someone with such taste close to you," Alfie said, always ready to compliment himself. 

"I am," Thomas quickly said, forgetting any type of humor.

They both looked away, blushing. Which made Alfie notice the looks other men and women laid on his companion. 

"If I didn't know the wives of half of these men, my dear Thomas, I'd say they're drooling at the sight of you."

"And what about you?" Thomas asked, not looking at anyone in particular, scanning the room for potential threats. 

"That's a dangerous question, that."

"Is it?" Thomas asked, finally meeting his gaze with a smile. "You brought me as bait, I'm simply making sure you didn't caught yourself in your own trap."

"What a kind bastard you are," Alfie said, sarcastically, "but I'd say that you got trapped before I did. And beside, who said you were bait?"

"Why would you dress me up, then?" 

"I simply enjoy the sight of thirsty bitter old men, Thomas. And… to finally see you out of that gray suit you always wear."

"I've got multiple. And they're different."

"Could've fooled me," Alfie whispered, smiling at the other. 

"Also, I didn't get trapped, as much as I was testing the waters… last night. Very… hum… controlled and disciplined of me, actually."

"Oh, I see and how did the waters feel, darling? You did seem to enjoy our little… swim session." He was smiling, impossible to stop himself.

"Well, I surely didn't expect the two of you to be here!" A nauseous voice exclaimed. 

Thomas didn't look, he knew who it was. His legs started to shake although he kept a straight face. He looked far away at other people. Alfie kept looking at Thomas a little bit more before facing Sabini. He didn't care about that italian little bitch. 

"Well, I guess that's what happens when all your assassination attempts keep failing and failing… over and over again." Alfie said, not even pretending to enjoy the other's company.

Sabini winced slightly before faking a mean smile. He looked at Thomas and stepped once closer. 

"And you brought the sodomite with you I see. I thought your people didn't like anything dirty, Solomons."

"You're right, so I'll need to ask you to step away a little bit, huh?" Alfie said with a bit more anger. 

Sabini knew he hit a nerve and smiled honestly before taking another step towards Thomas who slowly looked up.

"You take another step, sack of shit, and tomorrow you'll wake up without your fucking eyes."

"Ouhh, fightsy. Your aunt was like that too."

"Alright, you came and you did your number, how about you get the fuck out before I let him do whatever he wants with you?" Alfie let out, getting up to put an arm between Thomas and Sabini. 

The Italian smiled even more and saluted them with his hat before being on his way. 

"Always a pleasure to see a Shelby," he said as he went away.

Thomas went for his gun and Alfie barely had the time to go in front of him so Sabini's men wouldn't see and shot him. He put his hands on the other's.

"We're not here for him. Not right now. Later. Thomas, look at me, we're not here for him."

"Fuck if I care," Thomas exclaimed still looking at Sabini in rage. 

"But you do, otherwise you would've shot him by now. Look at me, don't look at him. Look at me."

So Thomas did. And it gave him just enough self-control to give up his gun and walk out to breathe fresher air.

Alfie didn't even think before going after him. He knew enough about Thomas Shelby to not let him, angry and armed, running around alone. He followed him until they were both outside and out of curious ears. 

"Why would I give two shits about how he gets killed? I just- I just want to see him suffer! I want him to know enough pain to fucking beg me to save him or to kill him, I don't care, it's just! Fucking not fair. Not when it's my family that you hurt. He- My aunt and my brother and he just... Didn't give a shit? He forced them to flee and then he caught Polly and Arthur just couldn't stand being helpless so he- They died because of him. I should just get in there and scoop his brain with a golden fork!"

"But his men would kill you before you even touched him."

"I don't care! Alfie, I don't care. He killed my family, he killed what we could've been. He killed the only thing keeping me alive in the war. He fucking killed me."

"And yet you're still here, preparing a revenge, okay? We're so close, so so close. Don't throw away every effort you made to get here."

"But I-"

And he said nothing else. He wanted to be stopped. He didn't want to win this argument, he just... Wanted to kill him so bad. He couldn't stand living as long as the other did too. 

He wiped the mere water that was building in his eyes, pretending it wasn't tears. 

"You- you said we weren't here for him?"

"It can wait five minutes, Thomas."

The other nodded, breathing deeply, making big steps to try to relax and change his mind. He just fucking walked. 

"Do you want a hug?" Alfie asked, uncomfortable, not knowing what was the right thing to do. 

"Ew, no," Thomas exclaimed with disgust before thinking about it. "Alright, maybe later, but not... Here. Also, I need some real fucking booze."

"Amen!" Alfie almost screamed.

And they had to threaten a couple of servers but they finally found some in the chef's private locker. A big glass in their hands, they made their way back to the heat of the event. Alfie took a different route and sat at a table that wasn't theirs. 

"Don't look, but she's at your 8 o'clock."

"Who?"

"The person we are here for. Camilla Sabini. Probably the smartest person in this room even though no man would ever admit it," Alfie breathed, drinking his whiskey.

Thomas looked. A strong and tanned woman was sitting comfortably, surrounded by five other women, equally or even more beautiful. They were all smiling and touching ever so slightly. They obviously didn't care about anyone around them. 

"Oi! I said don't look!"

"She's clearly not into me," Thomas laughed, looking away quickly. 

"But she'll be interested enough to come to me." 

Thomas frowned. 

"The thing is that Camilla is powerful enough to not be… interrupted in her way of living, but she's also oppressed enough to want to talk to me. It pisses her uncle off."

"Why would she want to piss him off?"

"You know that cute nickname Sabini has for you?" Alfie asked, obviously sarcastic. "Well hers is way way worse."

"I see," Thomas said. 

"Yeah, so we met and talked at several occasions. She's gonna be really excited."

"Why?"

"Cause I brought one of my beauties too."

Thomas looked at him and then looked at himself and then looked at the group of ladies giggling in the back. 

"Wait! 'One of'? Who the fuck are you _also_ seeing, Alfie?" Thomas exclaimed, suddenly really pissed.

"Alright, not the reaction I thought you would have, but fair enough."

And Thomas would've pushed the issue if both men didn't get interrupted. Bad timing must run in their family. 

"Alfie Solomons! Why it was about time!" A voice exclaimed just in Thomas' back. But by Alfie's smile, he knew they just caught the right target. "And _mio dio_ what a treat you just brought us!"

She finally sat in front of Thomas, kissing Alfie from apart and then dedicated her full attention to the new man.

"Well, welcome to my race, young man."

"This is your race?"

"Every race is yours when you know who will win, dear. But enough about me! Alfie, could you present us, please?" She was, in fact, shining out of glee, barely sitting straight. But even her childish attitude didn't hide the power she held in the room.

"Camilla, this is Thomas Shelby. Thomas, this is Camilla Sabini." Alfie said with much pleasure. 

Her smile quickly faded and her breathing seemed more difficult. She looked at Thomas right in his eyes. She put an arm toward the center of the table. 

"Give me your hand, please," she said with much care. 

Thomas looked at Alfie who nodded, although he was frowning. Thomas put his hand in hers. She took a deep breath and slowly caressed Thomas' hand like a mother would do to her child. 

"I- I knew this day would arrive and I knew the lives my uncle destroyed would be shown to me one day, I just… I'm sorry. Honestly. If I could have done anything to stop him, I would've."

Thomas felt the strong need to believe her. He knew it must've been a trick, a plan she had to make him think of her positively, but at this very second, he let it happen. He simply let himself being cared about. 

"But I know it must mean nothing to you, coming from a Sabini… I just want you to know that there's still some people with heart and with values. I can see in your eyes the loss you've endured, they are so sharply pale, they are empty to me, they leave one with oneself." She said as she lost herself in her own thoughts. She coughed and let go of Thomas' colder hand before forcing a smile and looking at Alfie. "You should've told me you weren't looking for someone anymore. I've been worried!"

He smiled at her and Thomas took back his hand, understanding that Alfie and her were more than "talking once in a while", they were friends. And he tried not to think that he was glad the other man had someone on his side. 

"I told you I was fine with or without," he said peacefully. 

She let out an outraged laugh. 

"You blind dog! You haven't looked so happy in years! And with this snack at your side, you seem to finally have a good time! Although I enjoy your company very much, you crazy old Jew, I'm simply relieved to see that someone is taking care of you!"

She winked at Thomas and he asked himself if she could read in his mind. 

A beauty came closer to Camilla and held her in her arms tenderly. Camilla replaced the other's hair with a smile. Something so small and so honest. In front of everyone. Thomas couldn't begin to understand the bravery they must possess to simply stand in this room. He didn't look at Alfie, but he felt like he needed that hug right now. Fuck, he really wanted it. And he never did before. He felt his heart ache. He even missed half of Alfie's speech, lost in his thoughts. He barely made it back into the conversation when Camilla, with Abby (he didn't know if it was her real name, but that is how she was presented) now sitting on her legs. 

"I know her, Alfie, but I do not _know_ her, not in the biblical sense, anyway. If you want some information from my uncle's secretary, you'll have to find someone else."

He looked at her with a smirk.

"I can always tell when a Sabini is lying and you aint about to fool this old soul," Alfie said. 

"Fine. Once, Alfie, only once. She was so boring, I don't even want to think about it. But that doesn't mean she would give me any information and then, if I did give it to you, I'd be trespassing the laws of the family or whatever my uncles call it."

"And you're such a docile little girl," Alfie said sarcastically.

She began to smile, but she quickly hid it, pointing a finger at Alfie. 

"No! You won't get away with your charm! This is off-limit! You could do anything with it and I cannot put the life of someone so close to me in danger." She said, although it sounded almost faked by the end.

"I saw Ikeda the other day…" Alfie let out as if he was talking about the weather. 

Camilla's eyes became even bigger as she slowly looked at Solomons. 

"So? Why would I care?" She said, pretending, but never stopping being attentive. 

"She was looking well, although a bit frustrated." He replied. 

"Good for her, then," she said very fast. 

"She mentioned you," Alfie finally let out, knowing he would catch her full attention. And Thomas did remember a name being thrown around between the two when he was trying his suit. 

Camilla swallowed and her breathing became quicker. 

"Hm? Did she? Probably other insults, that's all she cares to say since I left her." She said in a way that it was clear who really left whom. 

"It wasn't an insult," Alfie teased. 

Camilla tried to hide her smile. Even Abby seemed happy about the news. She passed a hand on the taller and much more tanned woman, trying to let her know it was exciting information. 

"She did ask about how you were. I obviously said you were glowing, as always."

" _Mi amore_ , thank you. This is… good. I'll let her know, maybe, in one of my ways, how I'm doing myself. Who knows, maybe I'll drop by someday." Camilla said as she got up, her eyes full of hopes. She then looked at Thomas who was looking at Alfie with a smile. "Oh, I see now. Your eyes, Thomas, keep them on our good Alfie, they look much more gentle that way," she said as she finally went away.

Both men stayed silent, paralyzed.

Then Thomas realized what just happened.

"How did she talk so much without even telling us anything?" Shelby exclaimed.

Alfie thought about it for a second before admitting, sadly:

"I'm afraid she got it from me."

Thomas nodded, it was the most logical thing he heard all night. 

* * *

They went to Alfie's car (since Thomas came with a taxi and on foot) and, there, a note was left for them. 

"I'll let you know by tomorrow as a gift for your loyalty. With love, CS. Don't forget to burn this after reading it."

Alfie smiled and looked at Thomas who just said that the night had been a waste. 

"We're so close, he'll still be hangover from tonight when we hit him," Alfie said, sweetly.

Thomas felt rested, which allowed him to remember. 

"My place is closer than yours from here," he simply said. "Maybe we could stop to get a drink."

Alfie smiled but didn't say anything. He loved to be courted in a way.

"And you still owe me a hug," Thomas said very seriously. 

"Oh, well, if I'm in your debt then," Alfie said with a smile. 

* * *

Thomas Shelby wasn't clumsy. He was controlled, serious and rigorous. Or at least, that's how he thought he should be. So, as far as he was concerned, he was behaving in a complete idiotic way since they passed the doorframe of his apartment. 

He kept mumbling and stomping on his own movements. He tried to open the door with the wrong key three times. And he wasn't even drunk. Shame. 

When he finally opened the door, he suddenly felt foreign to the place. He looked at it from Alfie's eyes and saw everything that someone could see as wrong. He left his cup of coffee, still half full, on the table, a pile of books rested on the kitchen counter and the bread (almost totally eaten by moss) was close to the bed. There was a plant on a big silver box with a paper under it saying "Don't forget to water the plant!" Sadly, the plant looked more brown than green. Where Thomas saw failures and mistakes, Alfie saw a hectic and weirdly organized life. He felt the need to inspect every little detail. 

"Okay, so, hum, I got rum or scotch, and-"

"Whatever would make you happy," Solomons said without thinking about it. But the turn of phrase made Thomas weak and he tried not to think about it, to ignore, in fact, any thought he could have on the matter. Everything was "I want this to never end" or "You gotta stop immediately, this has gone too far!" And for his nervous composition, it was too much. 

He poured two glasses of rum and gave one to Alfie who took it absently, looking at the pile of books and touching carefully the only plant in the room. 

"You know you've came here before? When you asked me to be… to… the offer." Thomas said, taking a big sip out of his glass. 

"I was too nervous to look," Alfie said without thinking about it. 

The apartment was in fact a one room with a closed bathroom which, by the space of it, should be referred as a closet with a toilet in it. The floor cracked and a baby cried two levels lower. There was only one chair for the table. Thomas pointed at it, inviting Alfie to sit on it. The other man did so. 

When he didn't know what to say, Thomas drank. Therefore, he finished his glass in a hurry. He poured himself another one. 

"Do you often bring people to stay in silent at your place?" Alfie asked with a smile. 

It made Thomas smile, although he rolled his eyes. 

"Oh yeah, I just couldn't wait to get a place so I could bring people and stay there, looking weird." Thomas said, sarcastic, sitting on his bed to be in front of Alfie. 

"What do you mean? Is this-? This is your first house?"

"If you consider it a house," Thomas murmured, not wanting to think about it. "It's just... The first thing I had, permanently, since Birmingham."

"So since the war?" Alfie asked, looking again, understanding the importance of this place. 

Thomas nodded, looking away.

"It just… never felt right. It still doesn't."

"Well you could always stay at Marion's, I'm sure she would love it." Alfie said, trying not to sound nervous. 

"Alfie, I- You gotta stop being nice to me. I can't-"

"Can't what?"

They fell silent. Thomas looked at Alfie in the eyes. He felt teased and betrayed at the same time. 

"You know," he said.

"No, Thomas, I don't, cause we never bloody talk about it." Alfie said with a bit more intensity. 

"We don't need to…"

"Oh, I think we do."

"It's nothing," Thomas replied. 

"You kissed me yesterday," Alfie finally said. 

"Well-"

"'Well' nothing! It's bloody true, innit? And you've been smiling at me," Alfie said. 

"Wh- Wh- I smile all the- Alright, no that's not true, fine. But you've been smiling even more and you keep… looking at me."

"And that's illegal now, is it?"

"With those eyes on me, yes, it fucking is."

Alfie smiled. 

"So… I guess we both did some things that were…" Alfie started, wanting the other man to finish. 

"I mean, I wouldn't say 'bad', as much as 'alternative'. Possibly… carefree? Unwise, perhaps." Thomas said, looking at Alfie, trying not to feel anything by the only sight of the other man.

"I was gonna say homosexual, but-" Alfie let out with a laugh. "So now that it's out, right, we only got one problem, dear."

Thomas frowned, although he looked quite interested. 

“Are you gonna eye-fuck me 'till morning or are you gonna give me a real fucking reason to stay?” Alfie burst out, almost mad at the situation. 

Thomas seemed shocked before smiling to himself, pleased in a way he didn't know he could be. 

“Does it mean that you're staying for the night no matter what?” He asked with an innocent tone. 

Out of reflex, Alfie looked back at him and Thomas smugly smiled at him. Thomas got up.

“Want another glass, Alfie?”

“Is that your excuse?” The other asked. 

“Is it yours?” Thomas replied, more serious now, his eyes focused. He walked towards the other man. 

Alfie's breathing lost its rhythm and Thomas could see it. The gypsy man placed a hand on Alfie's arm and very slightly pushed towards him and the chair. Without much complaints, Solomons let him close the distance. He hadn't planned for this. He hadn't planned Thomas would want this like he did or that he would lack the self-control to stop him. 

Thomas rested a hand on the back of his neck while he got closer. 

“This wasn't supposed to happen,” Alfie whispered.

And Thomas, almost completely on the other man, simply said:

“Sure as hell wasn't.”

He looked at his lips and played with the distance, briefly getting closer and then further. Putting an even lighter touch on Alfie's lips, Solomons got absolutely out of patience and couldn't do anything else than kiss him instantly. Both men were almost frozen in place for half a second, as if they realized the importance of what they were doing before completely accepting it and losing themselves in the action and in the temperature that, so close, went as high as a match suddenly being lit. Hands were everywhere and both men almost lost control, lost any type of conscience. Nothing was of importance in this game beside the other and this need between both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation.
> 
> Mio dio- My god (in italian) 
> 
> Please leave a comment! :)
> 
> Fun fact (optional, but since I made the research, might as well tell y'all): the word 'gay' wasn't used in the 1920's as 'homosexual'. It still only meant 'happy' or a 'prostitute'. Before that, it meant someone immoral. The word 'gay', in the USA, for example, only meant 'homosexual' from the 60's and after. Other words for 'lesbian' ('sapphic' passion or a 'tribas').


	12. Sabini's birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so this chapter is way smaller than the others, folks, so I'll post the next one quickly after. Just to be fair with y'all.

_ One month later... _

For the first time in his life, Thomas thought it best to not think about it. To not, in fact, think about anything. He simply tried to go where he felt like going, do what he wanted to do and say what he felt like saying. Which, in other words, meant he overworked, barely ate or slept, only stayed at Marion's and always in Alfie's room (even if once, the other man was gone for two days on a business trip in the north of England). And fuck ! He was he feeling good. He hadn't felt so relaxed since years before the war. Before the Peaky Blinders, perhaps.

This morning, Thomas was woken up by Alfie's now traditional kisses on his cheeks and forehead and neck. He then took a cup of coffee with Marion while Alfie was in the shower. Had breakfast with the man, he slowly read the journal, while Alfie was too busy eating to talk. They then conversed for a bit before, as it happened in the last week, especially, Alfie realized he was late (since he still was in his pyjamas while Thomas wasn't). 

On this specific day, though, the tone was much more somber. Today was the day they killed Sabini. And it just so happened that it was on the asshole's birthday. For everyone, they guessed, it was a time of festivities. 

"Thomas? Remind me to buy new trousers, these keep getting smaller and uncomfortable!"

"They look just the same, Alfie."

"Then how do you explain that I feel so constricted in them, huh, genius?"

Thomas only looked at him in the eyes and smiled. 

"Oh, fuck you, you perfectly crafted piece of divinity!" Alfie said angrily.

"You're still handsome in my eyes, too!" Thomas exclaimed, openly blushing and smiling.

"Oh, sure, you're just saying I'm fucking fat, is all! It's these trousers, that's the problem, innit. Fucking bloody trousers."

And this was all for the best. Thomas was living the life he thought he never could. Until today. Because today was the time to think. Today, he needed to figure out what the fuck he would do with all the mess he's been ignoring. He didn't want to change anything (beside killing Sabini, of course). He became too attached and that was more than obvious in his eyes. The more he thought about it, the less it made sense. He couldn't leave Marion and the house, couldn't leave Ollie (and his dumb heartbreak that never ended) and the bakery, he couldn't even leave Efrayim and his fucking baby attitude. He couldn't even stand thinking of leaving Alfie. That was too complex for his brain. It was the first time Thomas Shelby couldn't evaluate a possibility. And now, finding a solution was near impossible. 

What would he say after killing Sabini, what would he do? Campbell would be next, of course, but how could he explain that move? And how could he do it without the government coming after him, or even Alfie? But, whether he told Alfie or not, the man will eventually find out. Thomas would need to confess to the man or to leave him forever, hoping he wouldn't feel any rage towards him… if he did, which is more than likely, he'd be a dead man.

In conclusion, Thomas will die. But that never stopped him from going forward in his life. Death was a promise soldiers made a long time ago. Luck, although, was its best opponent. 

Thomas woke up this morning, feeling lucky. 

* * *

Since Italians only trusted Italians to cook or clean or do anything for them, the Gypsies couldn't infiltrate this way. They had to go as suppliers. The night of the event started very indirectly and the men and women outside were waiting patiently and cautiously. A party like this had about fifty guests. Fifty potential enemies. 

Fifty dropped to twenty when those who ate the pork went back to their own houses, embarrassed of what tainted meat can do to one person. And twenty dropped to ten by the end of the disappointed night. All the Gypsies outside, Thomas included, could hear Sabini screaming at his staff. Thomas looked around. He recognized a few faces, but not all of them. Some giggled at the show, some had their war faces on. He even saw someone cry at the distances, although he believed it was Marlin Smith and Marlin Smith was renowned for his more than intense allergies. Everyone was here. His mom didn't lie when she said she had some people for him. Even Solanges gave more than enough people for the night. It would be a swift victory. A glorious anticlimax. 

They were all waiting for Alfie to come back and give the signal. Sabini had nowhere to go now. It was purely a question of time for him and most of his men (although they only had to be shot if they tried to interfered).

Thomas was trying to calm down, like Marion told him to do, but he kept hearing the voice of Ada, broken and trembling in fear, retelling the horrors that happened to their families once he came back from war. He took some grass in his hand, not pulling, put rather being comforted in the strength of the ground under them. He breathed. He was not under the surface. His battlefield was no more a tunnel. It was an open air resolution. He felt the nature around him giving him the power to calm himself. He only had to wait. And tonight, he would sleep knowing Sabini wouldn't breath the same air. 

* * *

He hadn't been there when Thomas killed him. He was put on protection duty on the first floor. He was supposed to be done in a minute or two but it appeared Sabini only had men on the first floor so there was a lot more than expected. He hadn't had the time. He truly didn't. And now he didn't know where he was. He asked everyone. All they knew is the body of Sabini was dead and almost cold in a red and thick sea of blood. Some saw him do it but they barely said anything, they seemed to be scared of the details. They simply agreed that Thomas Shelby killed him and that they didn't know where he went after. 

That's when the truth seemed to hit Alfie. Still, he made sure everyone was dead and that the place was clean of their presence. Then, he made his silent way to Thomas' apartment, secretly hoping the man would be there, almost waiting for him. 

The door was unlocked. Thomas Shelby never locked a door in his life, it seemed. But there was also no one there either. That's when Alfie admitted to himself he was scared. More scared than at any other point that day. He quickly went back into his car, praying that Thomas would be at his place. Of course, he would be there, he told himself, this is the only thing that would make sense. He would want to go to sleep after tonight, get some real rest. He'd want a real shower too, Alfie continued, he was probably covered in blood. 

Nothing in all of his goddamn life prepared him for the absolute desperation he felt when he came home and Thomas wasn't there either. 

He spent the rest of the night and morning trying to not explode over it. Thomas would probably come in to work tomorrow, yes, he probably went out to get drunk after tonight's events. Yes, that's what he probably did. 

* * *

But he wasn't in any bar. Thomas knew, if he wanted to at least get a chance to stay in London, he'd need to kill Campbell. He needed to do this for Ada and for himself. He would deal with further details after. For now, this was his best play. He simply wished the Detective wouldn't know about Sabini or he would maybe expect him to trespass in his house, at this hour, covered in this blood. It made his steps squish into the silence of the late night. 

Maybe it was what got him. Maybe that's why Campbell knocked him out as soon as he stepped in his living room. Or perhaps it was the fact that Thomas Shelby should never be trusted. 

"Oh, that felt good," Campbell said, looking at Shelby's unconscious body on his floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No translation needed here! :)  
> Have a great week and please leave a comment!


	13. Alfie's London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if the 15th chapter is an epilogue, guys... This is the second to last 'real' chapter! This is so exciting!! But to those who also feel a bit sad that this story is coming to an end, I'll make a small announcement on the next chapter (on friday)!
> 
> Stay radical, kids!

The Bakery was booming with activities and sudden phone calls and it was running on the adrenaline caused by a potential revenge from the Italians. Every man was at his post and trying to not look paranoid doing his job. Any enemy could be anywhere. Today was not a good day to be careless. 

And yet, nothing happened. 

Alfie had a million phone calls to make and just as many threats so every little gang in the country wouldn't just start claiming London as their own. He was now the new official gang boss of one of the most powerful country's 

capital. But everything seemed just a tiny bit off. Thomas was still not there and no one saw him. He didn't know what to do. So he focused on what he knew how to handle : his Bakery.

Around noon, he ignored everyone's warning and went out to 'eat'. Which was obviously a lie : he never eats, he drinks. 

But he had things to do. And he wouldn't be able to focus without doing it. So he went to the library where Lorraine worked. As far as he knew, she would be in contact with Thomas. Or maybe she would have a hint as to where he would be. 

"Oh lord, you're testing me, what in Jesus' big world did you say this imbecile told you about me?" Lorraine almost screamed.

And now, that, was not what Alfie expected. 

Lorraine was putting books at their right place, obviously enraged that Alfie would go see her at her job, but also at the mention of Shelby. 

"That you served as a messenger between Ada and him," Alfie repeated, not allowing himself to understand what it meant if Lorraine didn't know what he was talking about. 

"I would never do such a thing! I didn't even know Ada was still alive! But she's in France, you say? Good for her, she was always the smartest of them lot!"

"But… do you… Where is Thomas?"

She almost threw the books she had in her hands on the ground but finally gained enough control to gently put them back on her cart, breathing loudly. 

"Why would I know? I barely see him and I certainly don't small talk with him. After seeing him all suspicious with that old man the other day, I wouldn't even look at him. And I would advise you to do the same!"

"An old man?"

She looked at him as if he was an even bigger imbecile than Thomas Shelby. She then began to tell him everything about the secret meetings he had with someone dressed as a policeman. She looked around her. 

"But you're sure he won't do anything to me? What if he comes in and-"

"Oh I can promise you, Lorraine, if Thomas Shelby walks through that fucking door, right? He'll have more to worry about than what you may have said. He'll need to walk through me."

* * *

Cuffed to a kitchen chair, Thomas was barely keeping his eyes open. The loud ringing in his head felt like his brain would explode and when he tried to think, it was even worse. He needed to come up with a plan or some kind of leverage. There must be something they wanted or needed from him if they hadn't killed him. His eyes finally closed and he let his mind drift away… Campbell slapped his face. Hard. 

Thomas was panting for a few minutes when the detective finally talked. 

"Oi, I need you awake," Campbell warned.

"'Need me'? What for?" Thomas asked with a deeper voice, still obviously hurt and in pain. 

"Oh nothing, don't you worry, you're more some kind of bate right now. Give us an hour and I'll kill you, nice and proper."

"Bate for what? Wait… How- Why do you need Alfie?"

Campbell rolled his eyes and seemed to not want to add anything before he started a monologue, more to himself than anything else.

"The veins of this grand city is still poisoned by its criminal poison. Sabini is gone but there's still one to take out too. And then, it shall remain in the hands of God and the law. As it should."

"Solomons doesn't know where I am," Thomas said, letting more fear showing than what he had wished for. 

"No, this simpleton doesn't, but we'll make sure he finds out."

* * *

Alfie almost didn't come back to the Bakery, but his logic told him he had to prioritize his business. This shady lying potentially dangerous threat that was Thomas Shelby was just another thing on a long list of things to deal with and there wasn't enough of hours in his day already. He told himself he would put his coat in his office and then do a tour when he saw his chair was being occupied by someone else. He burst into his own office. 

"What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing?" 

Efrayim barely raised his head to look at him. His eyes were sad, but his body had an unsettling calm.

"I told you not to trust him. I tried to protect you, you know?" The younger man said. 

"Get out of my chair, you twat!" Alfie raised his voice, tired of being confused today.

"You won't want to sit once I tell you were your watchdog is." Efrayim said with genuine regret. And by Alfie's reaction to his words, he had to come to the realisation that he was right. He told him Campbell's address. 

"Why would Thomas be there?" Alfie asked, on edge since Efrayim seemed to have all the answers and he was still left with nothing. 

"Because Thomas tried to kill the man that lives there, Detective Campbell." Efrayim said, his hands twitching, a small tell Alfie learned to notice. 

"How does he know this detective?"

Efrayim looked at him, pitying him and admiring his innocence at the same time. He noticed how his boss had been since Thomas arrived and that's why it had been so easy to say nothing. God, he really didn't want to do this. He got up. 

"Because Thomas works for him."

"And how do you know that?" Alfie asked, although he began to understand.

Efrayim swallowed before admitting he worked for him too. Alfie went for his gun. 

"You kill me right now, Thomas is dead." Efrayim said, making a step closer to the back of the office. He was bluffing of course, but what else could he possibly do. 

"And why should I care about his or your fucking spying ass?" Alfie screamed, enraged, his gun still firmly pointed at his chief of staff. 

"I don't know… but you still didn't shoot me and that simply proves my point. Now, they won't keep him there forever, sir. I think you should hurry. Last time I saw him there was so much blood on his face, he couldn't see."

Alfie took off the security and rushed to be a mere meter in front of Efrayim who closed his eyes, slightly trembling. 

"Don't you ever… ever put a fucking toe in this fucking city or I'll fucking scalp you and burn your flesh for a whole fucking week before giving the rest to the fucking pigs! And don't even think about using Shelby with me to save your disgusting life another time, am I fucking clear?"

Efrayim, still trembling and his eyes menacing to start crying, nodded maniacally, his breathing speeding up. Alfie shot him in the arm. A loud surprised scream echoed through the building and every worker stopped for a second before going back to work. 

"Now get the fuck out of here! You're lucky with what you fucking got!"

Efrayim nodded, tears finally streaming down his face. He took his arm in his hand and walked towards the door. 

"I'm sor-" He tried to say.

"Goooooo!" Alfie screamed, pointing his gun at him again.

Efrayim ran out of there. 

Alfie looked at his gun. Something in his mind shifted. Everything was so clear now. He was just going to kill them all. Nothing more. That would make way and send a message. That would solve all of his problems. Good, he settled, almost feeling glad. Let's just get done with it, then. 

* * *

Barely an hour passed before they heard gunshots. Campbell and Shelby were alone in the house, but Thomas supposed they were surrendered by agents and soldiers. It's when he heard a car crash, three deadly screams, a dozen of loud panicked pair of boots running everywhere and a man praying before a shot stopped him that Thomas understood with what kind of Alfie Solomons they were dealing with. He wouldn't get out of here alive. He tried to pull on his cuffs, but they were too tight and Campbell pointed his gun at him, warning him to not move. 

Finally at the door, Alfie Solomons slowly opened it, his expression focused although he seemed almost disinterested.

"Think about-" Campbell warned before Alfie shot him in the head. Rage trapped in his eyes. 

He slowly opened his eyes again and the same cold stoicism reigned on his face. Alfie turned to point his gun towards Thomas. 

"In the bleak midwinter," Thomas quickly said as he shut his eyes. 


	14. The Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END !!

Their breathing were unbearable in the hollow house, in the smell of blood, the weight of the soldier's bodies on the floor. Thomas's shoulders were so tensed, they felt like dislocating. Everything was buzzing and dizzy and he was gonna throw up. Shit, shit, he was gonna throw up. 

"Stop fucking playing and fucking go!" Thomas screamed, his eyes still closed, his arms still cuffed shaking.

He could hear Alfie's violent breathing, he could almost hear the gun too. 

"I did what I had to do, their deaths are avenged, now get it fucking over with!" He screamed once more. 

He couldn't stand it anymore. Out of impulse, he tried getting out of the chair he was confined in, only torturing his body more. He let out a scream and opened his eyes. He needed, in that second, Alfie to kill him. He craved death and the violence of a gunshot. 

That's when he saw him. Alfie. Shaking. Just as much as he was shaking. His eyes, scared. Just as much as he was scared. 

"It's okay," he tried to explain, trying to convince him, "it's okay. I… I forgive you, Alfie, please. I understand. I understand."

Alfie was pointing his gun with both his hands. The barrel of the gun was going up and down Thomas's head and he couldn't look away. He couldn't look at Alfie's cries. 

"I don't fucking want you to die!" Alfie replied, trying to not show his absolute terror. 

"But you want to kill me, Alfie, you need to kill me! I was using you, I betrayed you! From… From start to finish. And you were so… The best thing that could've happened to me and I fucking… That," he said, looking straight at the gun, "That is what I fucking deserve. You know that."

Alfie shook his head and snorted loudly. 

"Shoot me!" Thomas screamed. 

"You- you can't die, Thomas, I can't-"

"You'll never trust me again!" 

"I don't bloody care," Alfie screamed, starting to giving up. 

"I do," Thomas replied with even more energy. 

That is what tilted Alfie. He quickly put the gun towards the ceiling and shot two times, screaming:

"But this isn't about you!"

And Alfie threw the gun on the floor and got so close his cheek was almost touching Thomas'. His loud and hot breathing burned the other's face. 

"If you want to fucking kill yourself, right, you bloody do it yourself!"

And he almost ran out of the house, leaving multiple bodies, his gun and a still breathing Thomas Shelby. 

* * *

In all of his career, Marius saw all kinds of crazy things happen to all kinds of people. So when he saw Shelby on his front door, he didn't hesitate, he barely asked any question. When he refused to be helped or checked out, he said nothing. He let him rest for the night. London was quiet that late morning. Marius didn't know anything about this, but the war was done and all there was to do was to rebuild everything. 

It's the following morning, after Lorraine was almost assured that Shelby wasn't there to kill them, that Marius went into his office where he let Thomas stay. The man hadn't slept a second, it would surprise him if he had even blinked. He brought him a glass of milk and a toast. He remembered Thomas didn't eat much. He respected his desire for silence and patched his few bruises and the big wound behind his head. Once he finished, he put a pill beside the now cold toast and asked:

"Where's your muscled friend? Is his back okay?"

Thomas looked at him for the first time, his eyes filling up in a matter of seconds and his body shaking all over again. He shook his head. 

"I don't think so," Thomas cried silently. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the epilogue ! BUT ! I really love this AU and I can't wait to bring much more characters or plot points of the serie into it ! So, I'm already writing a second fanfic that will follow this one. The details will become more evident with the epilogue. Just be sure to subscribe to this fanfic because once I'll post the following story, I'll make a 'warning chapter' to tell y'all ! Stay groovy and I'll you in a couple of days ! ; )


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Shelby lost all his family and is determined to keep the only member left alive: his sister Ada. So when the government threaten to throw her in jail if he doesn't work for them... Well, let's say Thomas Shelby is now one of Britain's greatest spies. That is before he's assigned to Alfie Solomons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Don't forget to subscribe to be notified when I post the second part of this fanfic! Enjoy your reading and a special thank you for every single comment! They really made a difference and I loved every one of them way too much!!! Thank you also for reading this AU and following me in this idea! It's been a real pleasure!

_Three months later…_

"They say he went to France to help his sister. Something to do with the English Government. Although we know it to be solved now, our sources can't really tell why. But... He's back, sir. We know Thomas' in London."

"Thank you, Ollie, you can go for tonight," Solomons said, vaguely brushing him with his hand.

"Thank you, sir."

And Ollie went out, closing the door of Alfie's office. They revamped all the Bakery after Sabini's fall, but Alfie insisted on keeping this room the same. With everything changing and him trying his best to keep everyone from stealing his city, he quite liked his office to be a familiar space. His employee gone, Alfie poured himself back into work right away and, like much nights, he came home late and too tired to eat anything. He walked in his home, half expecting Thomas to be there. Half hoping, half dreading, in fact. He didn't want to see him and he certainly didn't want Thomas to see him so pale and weak. So much work made Alfie look sick, vulnerable.

Finally in bed, Alfie had to suppress the heartache he felt. He went to close the light when he noticed the glass of water on his nightstand. Marion never brought any and she would certainly not now that Thomas was gone. He got closer, feeling his heart skip a beat when he saw a note beside the glass.

"I know tomorrow is your free day. Meet me at the Marlin's. 9 am. Don't make me get you.

-TS"

As he went to bed, trying to ignore what he read, Alfie tried to convince himself it was only a dream. He tried, actually, to think of anything else beside the fact that he would probably fucking go even if he didn't think he should. 

But this sort of decision was too complex for such a late hour of the night so he went to sleep, thinking this wasn't worth a sleepless night. 

* * *

Thomas was sitting at the same bench he sat on merely a year ago. He looked at the sea and barely felt any worry when thirty minutes past 9. He knew Alfie would come. Or maybe he wished so hard for it to be the truth that it became something undeniable. 

When he finally glanced at his right and saw the tall figure, he tried his best to not smile. He knew things were not alright between them, but… if he ignored all of it, he was simply so excited to see him again. 

Alfie arrived, looking even more serious now, with his beard a little bit cut shorter and a new long brown coat for the colder season. He also wore a hat, which he never did before he took control of the entire metropole. Some people said it was to look more respectful, but Thomas knew it was for the effect, the drama. It didn't surprise him at all. What surprised him was his pale skin and his tired eyes and his weight loss. That, he hated. 

"So you wear hats, now," Thomas said, trying to break the ice. 

Alfie sighed deeply before sitting on the bench, not looking at him. 

"If that's what you want to talk about, then, sure, I wear hats now."

It looked as if Solomons wanted to say more, to explode, possibly, but his jaw was so firmly clenched, he couldn't say anything else. 

"It suits you," Thomas added, suddenly lost between what he wanted to say and the terror of rejection.

A heavy silence fell on both of them. 

"Do you-" Thomas tried before being brutally cut by Alfie. 

"No, alright, I won't do this easy talk! Right? Not with you! I- It- A bloody note, Thomas! A fucking smoke sign! A call or anything else! You know, something to say 'hey, so, I didn't fucking kill myself even if you've made it clear I should. And I'm just… bloody working on myself and helping my sister so don't worry about me and don't send a private detective on my dumb ass just to be sure my corpse isn't lying around somewhere!' You know, something like that!"

Thomas took a second to digest all of it, but nodded, knowing Alfie was right. But he had to ask:

"You sent a privy on me?"

Alfie rolled his eyes and sat back. 

"I fucking sent three."

Thomas tried to suppress a smile because right now really wasn't the moment. But he needed to say some more so he let some time for Alfie to relax and went on with what he had to say:

"I just… Well, first, thank you. For keeping your deal with everyone. I know about the Pollack boys and the forest."

"Leslie was worried about you," Alfie added, trying to sound rational.

"I know, I-"

"But your mama told me you needed some time, so." Alfie explained.

Thomas almost choked.

"Beg your fucking pardon! You talked to my mom?"

Alfie decided to go to this meeting, promising himself he would stay controlled and unemotional. And he was pissing all over that promise every time he opened his mouth. 

"Well, that's the bloody thing to do when someone is fucking worried, Thomas, innit? And beside the two poisonous drinks she gave me and the sedative in her cookies, she's a very lovely lady. But you know what? You're a fucking adult and I'm done worrying about you! It's- I'm good without you and I showed that by keeping London in one fucking piece, didn't I?"

"For the moment," Thomas breathed, getting closer to Alfie, like someone would tell a secret. 

"If that's a fucking threat, Thomas Shelby, I swear to God-" Alfie exclaimed, revolted, but also trying not to notice how close Thomas was. It's been so long. It's been so fucking long since he saw him.

"Alfie, no! That's- It's an advice. Listen, I heard some rumours about some underground agents chosen by Churchill himself to clean London and more of any criminal gangs."

Alfie sighed, but looked at him, at his side. 

"So… fucking spies?"

"Well," Thomas said, surprised and flustered, "not technically, I mean-"

"Are you still fucking working for them?" Alfie asked, getting himself away from the other man, reaching the end of the bench.

But that's when Thomas smiled. And Alfie knew that smile. It was the 'I got a plan for this' smile. 

"Or am I still working for you and pretending to work for them to know their next move?"

Alfie genuinely laughed. 

"I fucking hate this." He said with a smile. "Why can't it be simple with you?"

Thomas' smile vanished away as he looked at the water. 

"Because I would need to tell you I've missed you… more than I thought I could… and that I hurt you and that I'm so so sorry. I'm willing to give literally anything… for you to forgive me. I- I'm asking you to do me a favor, Alfie, I need you to take me back. I need you."

And Thomas very slowly took his hand to put it on Alfie's. Solomons didn't look at it, but allowed himself to cross his fingers with the other man. Fuck, he shouldn't do this. He closed his eyes. Fuck, he shouldn't do this. He never thought he could do this again. Okay, so he's doing this. He thought he lost him for good. He thought he lost everything and now…

"They assigned you to me, didn't they?" Alfie whispered. 

"Who knows the subject better?" Thomas asked, smug.

Alfie tried to think, but he kept rubbing his thumb on Thomas hand and it made him dizzy. Or maybe it made him see clearer? He felt like everything was too clear, too simple. 

"You know I wouldn't have fell for it, right? Like, I'm not the idiot _mister_ Churchill fucking thinks I am. I would've… seen something. Spies and stuff."

"Of course, Alfie," Thomas said, getting ever closer to him, his head almost resting on the other's shoulder. 

"Oi, don't give me that smooth tone, you charming snake, you!" Alfie exclaimed, not moving and feeling some kind of delight in having him so close. 

"Thank you," Thomas murmured, with a small laugh. 

"No, I wasn't- I didn't-"

But Thomas turned to look at him and Alfie suddenly couldn't comprehend how… his eyes! His face! And his fucking stupid smile! Alfie thought he never saw Thomas so happy before and he couldn't say anything.

"Well, I'd love to stay, but I'll see you tonight, Marion already agreed to have me at diner. I'll leave you to your free day, you deserve it with the hours you've been putting in," Thomas casually said, getting up and slowly unfolding his hand from Alfie's, fixing his suit and looking away.

"You don't know I've-"

"I don't need a privy, Alfie, that's my job to know everything. That's how I knew you… you missed me. And I'm glad… in a way."

"I never said-" Alfie stopped him, almost getting up.

Thomas finally looked at him with a smile. 

"You wouldn't have wasted your only free day in three weeks on my traitorous ass if you didn't. And I know you, Alfie Solomons, don't you test me on that. Now… I'll see you at diner."

And Thomas went away. 

"Wait, Thomas?"

So he stopped and looked back. 

"I can't if- Is it still a trick?" Alfie asked, letting himself be the most vulnerable he's ever been. 

Thomas seemed to think about it for a long time.

"No trick is worth what I really want, now."

Solomons nodded, trying to be satisfied with the answer. He looked back at the waves. 

"And Alfie?" Thomas asked, his voice shaking as the other man looked at him. "You can call me Tommy, now. If you'd like."

Alfie smiled.

"Maybe one day, yeah."


End file.
